


When in Rome

by reggie_the_sky_walrus



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: 80's Music, Age Difference, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Drug Use, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Espionage, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, FBI, Height Differences, Javier is....Javier, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Manhandling, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Touching, Older Man/Younger Woman, Pedro Pascal - Freeform, Period-Typical Sexism, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader is a Rookie FBI Agent, Set mid-season 1, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents, That's It That's The Tweet, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Undercover, Unresolved Sexual Tension, captive reader, dark but canon-typical, reader is stubborn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28587447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reggie_the_sky_walrus/pseuds/reggie_the_sky_walrus
Summary: Departing the plane, you stopped at the top of the stairs for a moment to look out amid the cramped landscape of Medellín, heat waves bleeding off of the pavement and warping your view into something of a mirage. You smiled, hoping your first look wouldn’t be a metaphor for your “extended stay” here. You had no idea what this assignment would hold for you, this country was about as known to you as the sealed files locked tightly in your slim briefcase bumping against your tights. Steeling yourself with a face you hoped looked determined, you gathered yourself and all of your years of training to meet your mission, and as fate might have it, your destiny.-Reader is a rookie FBI Agent on her first mission outside of the States, tasked with observing and assisting the missions of two wildcard DEA agents who have spelled nothing but trouble for the power-hungry Medellin Cartel and the Colombian government. After having a difficult time connecting with one of her partners, Reader soon discovers why the Medellin Cartel and Pablo Escobar are nothing to fuck with, and her very survival becomes intertwined with her fellow partner in a way that will change them both forever.
Relationships: Javier Peña & Reader, Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You
Comments: 73
Kudos: 232





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends!
> 
> So I'll be honest, I totally binged Narcos Season 1 yesterday for the sole reason of Pedro Pascal. But I soon realized that as I was falling in love with Javier Peña, I was also falling in love with the show itself. Hence this bad boy, set mid-season 1 during the peak of Pablo's career!
> 
> A few notes before we get started:  
> This is a slow burn, and there will be smut down the line. There will also be period-typical sexism and Reader may be put in uncomfortable or possibly triggering situations, so please mind the tags as they are updated! Reader in this story is not written as a specific race or ethnicity, and I will be using the term "gringo/gringa" as it is used in the show by Colombian natives in reference to any foreign person, specifically targeting those from the United States regardless of race as in the series.
> 
> Updates will be posted weekly, usually on Fridays. Please feel free to leave a comment and let me know how I'm doing! I am so excited for this story and the next chapters!! Please enjoy!

The view was nice, you supposed. Some land here, some islands there. Lots of water. You hadn’t been in a plane since your flight to Quantico all those years ago (it actually wasn’t that many, but it felt like it today), and it was just as horrible as you remembered. You thought about the most recent movie you had seen in theatres before you left the States, some action-packed blockbuster that had something in it about making fists with your feet to get over airsickness. Yeah, it definitely didn’t work.

Instead, you gripped onto your patterned armrests like you’d fly out of the plane yourself if you let go, and hoped that you wouldn’t sacrifice your manicure in your fight for survival. If this flight was going to be the worst of your problems in the cartel-owned country of Colombia, this might actually be a fun assignment.

Of course, you weren’t getting your hopes up.

“We’re beginning our descent, please fasten your seatbelt.” The cheery woman on the speaker chirped, repeating the command in perfect Spanish afterwards. Almost all of the Spanish words made sense to you, but if you were honest with yourself that was probably because you had heard the English translation first. C’est lie vie.

The plane eventually slid to a stop on the tarmac, with your cushioned arm rests mostly in tact. Standing up on wobbly legs, you brushed your hair out of your face and let out a shaky sigh. You pressed down wrinkles you knew didn’t exist on your skirt and blouse, still calming your nerves that were most certainly from the plane and not from your first real mission out of the academy. The hostess smiled politely at you on your way out, looking just as pleasant as her voice had been moments ago over the crackling speaker. You wondered if she could tell you were green, if she could smell it through the gringo all over you. Her smile didn’t answer your thoughts, and yet you still felt all the more anxious.

Departing the plane, you stopped at the top of the stairs for a moment to look out amid the cramped landscape of Medellin, heat waves bleeding off of the pavement and warping your view into something of a mirage. You smiled, hoping your first look wouldn’t be a metaphor for your “extended stay” here. You had no idea what this assignment would hold for you, this country was about as known to you as the sealed files locked tightly in your slim briefcase bumping against your tights. Steeling yourself with a face you hoped looked determined, you gathered yourself and all of your years of training to meet your mission, and as fate might have it, your destiny.

-

“No. Fuck. No. Absolutely fucking not.”

The muffled sounds of hands slamming against a table radiated into the hall you sat in. You could only hear bits and pieces of the DEA agents' conversation with Ambassador Noonan, mostly just from one very loud and very angry voice in particular, and with every minute that passed by your own hands became sweatier and sweatier.

You were just about to ever so casually rub them on the upholstery of the itchy chair you had plopped in when the door to Noonan’s door swished promptly open. Noonan pushed her head out, smiling elegantly amidst the chaos that had just been stirring in her office, not a hair out of place. She had always reminded you of a hairless cat in her pictures on file in Quantico, and you meant that in the best way possible. In person, you noticed that the likeness definitely stuck.

“Darling, come on in and meet your colleagues.” Her voice caught only slightly on the final word, and you finally let out a breath you didn’t even remember you were holding. You stood, briskly grabbing your briefcase with a quick nod.

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, pleasantly surprised your voice didn’t crack as you resisted the urge to smooth out nonexistent wrinkles from your blouse again. Noonan smiled pleasantly at you again, but you noticed something behind those cat-like eyes of hers as you moved towards the door. You couldn’t be sure, but it looked a hell of a lot like pity.

You began sweating even more. How was that even possible.

Noonan swiftly ushered you into the room, revealing an impeccable office draped in various framed documents and awards garnered over her illustrious and even fabled career. You had heard so much about Noonan before you began your mission, and you had to admit she really was an intimidating woman, even outside of her far-stretching smile. And yet, even in the throes of her elegant office, two dark mars stood out against the pageantry. A tall blonde man sat in one of Noonan’s exquisite chairs, face drawn closed and staring squarely at you with a gaze that dripped with nonchalance. You almost felt like he regarded you like a dog would a mouse he was too tired to chase. Maybe it was just the light in here, though.

Unsettling even more was the man dressed in a leather jacket standing stiffly by Noonan’s desk, both hands placed on his hips. One hand was twitching ever so slightly. Ah yes, the source of all that noise. You spot him staring darkly on the floor, obviously summoning up enough strength not to hit something again from the looks of it. You shivered, just once. The air felt much too thick for you to breathe in. The hallway wasn’t looking so bad after all.

You quickly glanced at each of them, offering a resigned and polite smile that you hoped felt strong but approachable. In return, the man in the chair gave a small nod, focusing his attention back on Noonan at the door, like you weren’t even there at all. The other man gave you a quick up-and-down you were sure he thought you wouldn’t notice, lingering on your legs for a touch too long before his eyes darkened again. His face immediately set like stone and he sneered, looking back down at the floor while he shook his head, mumbling in Spanish.

Nice, so this is going well, you thought as your smile cracked.

Noonan swiftly moved back behind her desk, listing your name and credentials in introduction as she sat. “She is a United States FBI certified special agent and should be treated as such. She will be accompanying you throughout your missions and assist you with information reconnaissance as she is able. Treat her just like any other DEA agent.”

The man standing let out a dry laugh. “But she isn't DEA, Noonan. She's fucking FBI,” he spat. You flinched and immediately cursed yourself for doing so. Why did you feel so weak all of the sudden? He looked directly at you then, dark eyes piercing into yours so intently you were sure he had you pinned to a wall with his gaze alone. “And rookie FBI, by the looks of it.” He raked his eyes over you one more time, and at that your brow set. You took a step towards him, anger finally creeping up your throat like acid.

Noonan’s friendly eyes turned to steel. “Peña, for God’s sake. You two have been meddling around enough, you should be thankful the US Government only sent one federal agent to follow your idiotic antics. Washington is re-looking at our funding this quarter and if you pull some type of moronic bullshit they will be allocating taxpayer dollars back to hunting the communists. We need the Bureau’s support.”

The standing man’s eyes never left yours. “Yeah? Well maybe we should paint Escobar red next time we see him.” Balling his hands into fist, he stormed right past you and into the hallway, slamming the door next to you shut.

You heard Noonan’s deep sigh but didn’t completely register it in your brain, and you saw her begin to rub her temples out of the corner of your eye. “It’s a pleasure to have introduced you to Agent Javier Peña, I do promise he is not always so...loud, as it were,” the ambassador sighed out, breathing through her nose. She gestured to the sitting man, your eyes finally focusing back from the initial shock of... Agent Peña’s exit. “This is Agent Steve Murphy, Peña’s partner in the DEA. He will guide you through the procedures here and get you up the speed on what they’ve been working on. For the next month I do not want you leaving either Murphy or Peña’s side while on duty, you are here to assist and accompany but most of all to observe. Please make sure Agent Peña keeps that in mind, Murphy.”

Murphy gave her another minute nod, expression still impassive.

Noonan’s smile stretched back over her face. “Wonderful. Dear, why don’t you head off with Murphy for the day? I’ll be here if you ever have any questions during your time in Colombia. I truly hope you enjoy this country as much as we all do,” she said warmly. “I’m looking forward to your insight.”

You smiled back in turn, hoping you didn’t already look too startled. Noonan’s face gave nothing away. “Thank you for your hospitality, Ambassador.” She nodded shortly in return, and Murphy finally stood. You noticed he was, in fact, very tall. You were barely sure you’d come up to his shoulder if you stood right next to each other. He moved towards you, gesturing to the door as your eyes snapped back down.

“Ladies first,” he said, no hint of laughter in his voice. You brushed past him, flushing as you desperately tried not to trip in your skirt as you turned. Jesus, you really were more worse for wear than you thought. Your first real mission and you were fumbling around like a newborn deer.

“Thanks,” you muttered as he closed the door behind the two of you. Murphy just shrugged, leading the way down the hall. You followed closely, trying to keep up with his long strides amid the bustling office. You gripped your briefcase impossibly tighter.

“Sorry about Jav, by the way. He doesn’t like feds other than himself snooping around his work, makes him antsy,” Murphy threw behind his shoulder. He glanced down at you, considering you for a quick moment as he soldiered on. “Plus, I’m sure he thinks you're gonna stick out like a sore thumb.”

Your step faltered and you briefly threw out your free hand for balance as you gained your footing again. “Excuse me? What do you mean by that exactly?”

Murphy looked back at the hallway, as nonchalant and cool as ever. “Just mean you don’t look like you're from around here, that’s all. Don’t worry, most of us Americans always do.”

You closed your mouth, heat leaving your face. Your first day should not be spent bickering with your new partner, especially when your other one felt like a lost cause already. You looked down at yourself, eyes sweeping over your clothes as you catalogued what you were wearing. Tights, skirt, blouse, scarf? This is probably the most basic professional outfit you owned. Whatever this country and its inhabitants were like, it seemed clear that you were already off on the wrong foot. You made a mental note to start looking at what the other women wore around the office on your journey to Murphy’s office.

When you arrived, you were grateful it was unoccupied, nerves already jingling at the thought of having to face Peña again. You really weren’t sure what this guy’s problem was, but had resigned that today was not the day to find out. You weren’t about to let some jerk dampen your drive to finally be a part of something bigger, a part of real change. Focus on the status quo and figure out how to fit in. That’s when you can really do your job. Fit. In. You’d prove that you weren’t some dumb American rookie in no time.

As the day wore on, you came to realize the true meaning of “easier said than done.”


	2. Chapter 2

As excited as you were about your current mission, you sure felt like it was just another day at the academy when Agent Murphy was talking to you. Murphy did his best to update you on all the ins and outs of the operations he and Pena currently had in place, including which informants were clean and which were playing both sides. You made sure to make specific mental notes as best you could for each one, knowing that the responsibility of informant safety would be one of your primary objectives with Peña and Murphy. They had a unique way of disappearing or being conned, and at this point in the war against Escobar, the saying “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” was doubly true.

Outside of informant profiles, Murphy also took you through DEA procedure to fill in the gaps between FBI and Colombian intelligence. Most of the work seemed the same from what you had been taught in the academy, but you were happy to have a refresher and did your best to keep up with cultural norms and differences. Sticking out like a “sore thumb” was not on your list of priorities on your first day in this country, but you came to understand certain dos and don’ts. That still didn’t really explain Murphy and Peña’s apparent hesitance at your appearance, however.

As Murphy was droning on about known cartel safe houses, you sat up in your chair a tad bit straighter. “Excuse me, Agent Murphy?” He glanced back over at you, his groove slightly put off.

“Please call me Steve, no need for formality around partners. Makes it easier for us to get along,” he stated, still with a cool air of business, but you appreciated that he was at least trying to make you feel welcome. You could tell he really wasn’t that imposing of a man at heart, and that gave you confidence.

“I was wondering if you might be able to explain to me what I can do to best fit in with my appearance here, blending in is an important part of being an intelligence agent and I want to make sure I can do my job adequately while I’m in this country,” you added with a smile, looking hopefully up at him.

The agent looked at you squarely, regarding you with an imperceptible grain of humor. “Well, I’m sure as hell no all-knowing Colombian culture guide, but I can tell you for starters you might want to wear something a bit more comfortable to work. Javi and I have a weird problem of getting ourselves into gunfights on the regular, and none of the ladies here other than the secretaries wear skirts.”

You looked down on yourself, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. Of course you knew that would be the case in the field, but you had been hoping to make a good impression today in your professional outfit. Apparently pageantry really didn’t mean jack shit here. You made a mental note to toss all of your skirts and dresses into the fire when you got to your new federal housing.

Murphy’s gaze softened as you swam deep in your thoughts, and he reached a hand down to your shoulder in a brief reassuring pat that was only a touch awkward. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You’ll shed the bright-eyed American apple pie persona in no time. The best thing I can prepare you for is Colombia itself, and even that is a hard sell,” Murphy chuckled wistfully, moving back to his position behind his desk. “This place is like hell sometimes, but we’re not here to change it. We’re here to save it.”

You resisted the urge to laugh at his grandiose statement, knowing it was meant to inspire confidence in you but feeling more akin to Reagan-TV propaganda. Still, you appreciated the gesture and looked up at him with a smile you hoped didn’t look weak, and with a smile back he continued his debrief on cartel establishments. It was nice to know you had a possible friend in Steve, even if he was a little rough around the edges. If they were gonna be partners, they were going to have to get along and have each other’s backs no matter what.

That train of thought of course brought you back to your other partner, Agent Javier Peña. It stung how much he seemed to despise you already, but you couldn’t say his reaction to you was completely surprising either. You were a woman in a male-dominated field, a boy’s club as it were. Lots of agents-in-training at the academy regarded you with the same sneer, the same indifference. If they weren’t questioning your capabilities as an agent, they were whistling at you behind your back in the locker rooms. Wondering why you were even there when they were already so much physically stronger than you naturally, better than you at taking down other agents in altercations and physical combat with assailants. That just made you work even harder to perfect your shot and sharpen your negotiation skills, focusing instead on the real important parts of being an intelligence agent: skill, not strength. You knew you had been one of the top cadets in your class, and no amount of male insecurity could change that. You played to your strengths and stood tall among your male counterparts in this male-dominated field, because you knew you were ready to and would make a difference. No one was going to get in your way when it came to that, not even Javier Peña.

For all you knew and from what Steve had told you, Peña probably took one look at you and thought you were a damn receptionist. Weak and small and in no way worthy to be his partner, let alone watch his back. You were sure he probably had written you off already as some new liability, something that was in his way and not an equal. This thought made you grit your teeth even as Steve continued to explain cartel escape routes to Panama, and you felt your will steel itself inside you in anger and determination. You were going to prove to Peña that you deserved to be here, just as you had to do with every other male cadet you had to deal with in the academy. You had handled them with grace and cleverness that took you all the way to the top of your class while they sat filing cabinets back in Quantico. Your new partner would be no different.

Steve glanced behind you at the clock on his wall, briefly checking his watch on his wrist to double check that the time he was reading was correct. “Damn, 5 o’clock already. The time truly does fly when you're having fun,” the agent said with a wiry smile. “Good work for today, didn’t know anyone could hear me drone on for a whole work day. Usually by this time Peña’s already cracked open the whiskey, but I think he might’ve left early.”

Your face flushed and your hands started fiddling with each other sheepishly. “Really, don’t let him get to you. He’s an asshole but he’s a good man. He’ll have your back when you need it,” Steve punctuated with a conspiring wink that felt warm and friendly, like they were in on a joke together. For as shitty as Peña was, Steve sure did do his best to make up for him.

“Thanks, Steve. I really appreciate it. And thank you so much for catching me up on everything, I know it’s probably never fun being stuck with the newbie,” you replied as you stood, briefcase in hand. Steve just shrugged it off.

“Don’t worry about it, we were all new once. Plus, no matter what department you're from, we’re partners now. Plain and simple. Not gonna have a partner of mine ill-informed when it’s between you and me and a cartel bullet in the head,” he said plainly. You really weren’t sure if you were supposed to laugh or not, but you did anyway. It was only slightly shaky. 

“I’ll walk you back to the federal housing, you know which building you're in?”

You looked down at your palm, a number written in pen smeared slightly from sweat marring your skin. “Um, yeah building 4 I believe?”

At that, Steve whistled. “Nice, Peña’s building. Well, at least we’ll all be close. I’m the one across the street from you two.”

Your palms started to sweat again. Being in Peña’s building made you nervous. What if you two really hated each other? How were you supposed to work together if you hated each other and were neighbors? You smoothed the wrinkles on your skirt again, though not a wrinkle could be found with your now damp hands.

“Great,” you replied plainly, wearing a thin smile. If Steve noticed he didn’t say anything, instead moving to grab his jacket and lead you towards the door.

“I’ll walk you there, it’s on the way. My wife and I will have to have you over for dinner soon, Connie will talk my ear off if she finds out we got a new partner and she didn’t get to meet you,” Steve chuckled fondly, a sharp twinkle in his eye that made you smile genuinely.

“That sounds lovely. If your wife is anything like you, I’m sure we’ll be fast friends,” you said as you breezed through the door into the main office space. You could almost feel Steve roll his eyes behind you.

“She’s something all right,” he muttered, but the fondness never left his voice. You silently wished Peña had been making this much of an effort with you, but shoved your dejectedness to the side. You could deal with 1 for 2 for now, you thought as Steve weaved you back to the exterior of the embassy.

Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

-

The federal housing wasn’t as horrible as you had been told it would be in your debriefing in Quantico, but it definitely wasn’t a 5-star suite as well. You sighed deeply as you surveyed the small space, taking in the empty walls and barren kitchen. Making this place feel like home seemed like a daunting task, but your determination never wavered. It was going to take a lot more than a shitty apartment to make this gal turn around.

You dumped what meager belongings you had on the living room floor, having only been able to bring two suitcases with you on the initial flight here. You had some more items your parents were shipping to you in the coming weeks, but for now what the agency had supplied you with would be enough to survive off of. All the necessary amenities were supplied to you, making your accommodations almost feel like a hotel. There was even a full bed shoved into the corner of the bedroom, free from any sheets but still a bed. Yes, you could make this work. But you definitely were missing a lot of things.

You sat on the creaking mattress with your head in your hands. All in all, it hadn't been the worst first day, but you still felt a nagging feeling that you were doing something wrong. You hated the idea of your peers not accepting you, and Peña’s rudeness clung to you like flies. You were never the kind of person to tolerate disrespect, and you weren’t about to let that start now.

Even so, you knew honey caught more flies than vinegar.

Steeling yourself, you shucked off your clothes and dove into your suitcases, hunting for more suitable clothing that Steve had suggested. You pulled out some breezy patterned chino pants and a plain t-shirt, hoping to look as “casual” as possible. After pulling on the new clothes, you shuffled over to the full-length mirror attached to your far wall, giving yourself a brief once-over. 

You looked suitable enough, maybe a little sleepy around the eyes because of the jet lag, but all in all presentable. You changed your twisted updo into a simple ponytail, gathering up all your fly aways as best you could at the top of your head. You still had a bunch of hairs sticking every which way around your face, but you didn’t have the vanity to spend more time adjusting them. You flashed yourself a brief thumbs-up in the mirror and steeled your gaze, marching out of your new apartment with confidence.

Steve had briefly pointed to you where his apartment was across the street, and had motioned to Peña’s apartment across from yours as well. It made you a little antsy to know your possible work-enemy was just a few feet away from you, but you decided to take it as a blessing in disguise. The closer you were, the easier it would be to win him over, and with that the easier it would be to actually work together.

With this in mind, you stood in front of Peña’s apartment door, and before you could think twice about it your hand was rapping solidly on the dark wood.

Moments passed, with no response. Your brow furrowed, confusion settling in you. Had you heard the wrong apartment number from Steve?

You had just lifted your fist to the door again when it suddenly opened, revealing a disturbed Agent Javier Peña in the same clothes he had been wearing before, glass of half-drunk whiskey in hand. He looked you up and down once again just like he had at the embassy hours earlier, and when he got to your legs something akin to disappointment flashed through his eyes as he took in your pants. Now that really burned you, just who did this guy think he was? You were wearing pants and he was still judging you silently with his eyes. What a piece of work.

“Yeah?” He said roughly, and you finally noticed how long it had been since he opened the door. You mentally kicked yourself, steeling your expression up to meet his eyes.

“Agent Peña. I never got the chance to properly introduce myself to you earlier today,” you started, voice strong.

Peña cut you off fluidly. “I know who you are.” He took a swig of his whiskey, almost like he was dismissing you. Your eyebrows moved even closer together.

“Right. Listen, we’re partners now, and I’d really rather us not get off on the wrong foot. We both have a common goal, and like it or not I’m gonna be here for a while. So if you could, I’d appreciate it if you at least gave me a chance here,” you breathed out, hoping you didn’t sound as whiny as you felt in your head.

The DEA agent regarded you thoughtfully, seeming to really look at you for the first time since you met him. You noticed how strong his face was set, like he never really learned what the term "relaxed" meant. Even so, you couldn't help but note the softness he had in his eyes when he looked at you, and you could've sworn it felt just a touch admiring. He smirked and took another sip of his whiskey, almost gone from his glass. Your eyes lingered a little too long on his large hands as he brought it to his mouth.

“Was that it then?” He sighed tiredly, and you felt more like a nuisance than you ever had in your life. For fuck’s sake.

You gritted your teeth. “Yeah, I guess that was it,” you bit back, hands settling on your hips.

“Good,” he replied, and swiftly closed the door in front of you.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Your mouth opened and closed in front of his closed apartment door, and your brain short-circuited as you tried to process the absolutely laughable display of rudeness you had just witnessed.

“Good talk,” you said to the door, raising your voice so Peña could hear the acid behind your words. Whether or not he did you didn’t know, since he didn’t appear to open the door again for the entire time you stood there.

You ran a hand over your face roughly and marched back to your apartment, anger settling deep into your brow so much you were momentarily worried your face may just stay like that forever.

Opening your door you flung yourself back onto your bed face first, refusing to look at anything other than the blended shapes and squiggles that appeared behind your eyelids as you forced your hands against them.

There was no crying in baseball, but there sure was in the FBI. 

You let yourself lay in your self-pity for a minute longer, until your breath came shallowly from your position smushed against the bare mattress. Rolling over, you stared at the ceiling and blinked away unshed tears. You knew deep down that you could do this, shitty partner or not. You were a professional, and you had lives to save. You weren’t here to make friends.

Colombia was a dangerous place today, but you knew with Steve’s help you would be able to make it different tomorrow. You had nothing but that hope to cling to, and as childish as they may be, the thought alone helped remind you of who you were and what you were capable of. 

Tomorrow was going to be a new day indeed. That was a promise.

-

Across the hall, a tired DEA agent sighed darkly, shaking his head at the thought of another beautiful girl in way over her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


	3. Chapter 3

“All right, we got a new hit.”

Steve about spilled your boiling hot coffee all over your very new desk as he threw a file on it. Your reflexes allowed you to move quick enough to steady it before it toppled over, and Steve sent you an apologetic smile in his haste. You had picked up in your first week here that Steve was always ready to jump the gun, no matter what time of day and how literal that saying really was for him.

“Great! Let’s hear it, then,” you replied, actually excited that there was something new bubbling beneath the surface of the DEA agents’ current mission. You had caught on quickly to what they were planning, focusing their attentions pointedly on Escobar and his right-hand man, Gustavo. Your first week had been spent shuffling through files and scouring through any details the agency might have missed in past raids and altercations, which would normally make you feel discouraged as a desk jockey but really gave you a lot of time to absorb as much information as you could. You were set on not dragging the team down, and treating your mind as a fortress of relevant information was a great way to avoid that.

Steve seemed to match your excitement, mouth now set in a hard line but a glimmer of action in his eyes behind the seriousness of the situation. He looked around the main office space swiftly, spotting what he was looking for. “Jav, get over here, man.” He motioned behind you, to which you craned your neck to see your other partner, ever so artfully casual as he draped his arm on the embassy secretary’s desk. Irritation burned at your neck. He looked almost as frustrated with you and Steve for interrupting him and his...work.

This fucking guy.

Just as you suspected, Steve and you had gotten along perfectly well during your first few days at the embassy, sharing files and intel to nit pick through everything the agency had on Gustavo and Escobar. From what you found, Gustavo was almost as guarded and secured as Escobar. Almost. And for the cartel to have a player so closely involved in operations to be considered a “right hand man,” you knew there had to be some way to exploit him for the agency’s gain. That wasn’t the hard part, though. The hard part was finding out how.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t say that your camaraderie with Steve was mirrored with Peña. Not even a little bit. He avoided you most days, and when he absolutely had to speak to you, he rarely ever looked you in the eyes. He was either talking to Steve like you weren’t even there or worse, staring at you. Not staring at your face, but your body. Specifically your legs, even though you did exactly as Steve had recommended on your first day and strictly wore form-fitting pants to work. Based on Peña’s reaction, that might have been worse than the skirt. Or maybe he just really couldn’t stand you. Either way, he was getting on your nerves at an exceptionally fast pace.

The agent in question rolled his eyes at you and Steve, turning to flash a conspiratory smile with the young secretary as she giggled. You pinched your thigh through your jeans so as to not bark out his name to get his ass over here. You left that to Steve, no use wasting your breath on this asshole. Peña finally made his way to the two of you, strutting like a peacock the whole way. He stood, crossing his arms stiffly a few feet away from you. Like you were so insufferable he couldn't be near you. To you it was certainly the other way around.

“Thanks for gracing us with your presence, Javi,” Steve sighed dryly. “As I said, we have some new intel on Gustavo’s movements with the cartel. A lower-level sicario has connected with the DEA to trade information for immunity, a bargain I am most certainly willing to make to get these bastards. From the sounds of it, Gustavo is being sent to negotiate with Pacha of the Cali Cartel on behalf of Escobar this weekend.” 

Your brain was spinning with this information and all the possible scenarios that could blossom from it. Your brow furrowed intently. “To send out as big of a player as Gustavo just to negotiate means shit must really be hitting the fan right now. He doesn’t get sent unless they’re closing a deal, and from what you're saying...that definitely doesn’t sound like that.”

You looked up just as Peña tore his eyes from you.

Steve’s eyes twinkled. “Exactly. And that’s what we need to find out. I’m proposing we go on an intel recon mission to meet with this new informant, we’ll have to meet them at a public place sicarios normally frequent so as not to be suspicious. In person, it’ll be much easier to milk information from this guy, especially since Noonan just told me they’re tapping our landlines again.”

At that, Peña sighed deeply. “For fuck’s sake, again? Do you know how much information was leaked?“

“Not a lot, nothing important as far as we know. But we can’t trust wire communications here for now,” Steve finished as Peña roughly scrubbed his face with his hand.

His hands really were so big.

You shook your head at the intrusive thought, focusing back on Steve. You really hated your brain for thinking things like that sometimes. “If we’re going to have to go into the field and meet with this informant in person, that means we can’t risk a shoot out. We’ll have to have real covers for this.”

Steve nodded at you, and you could see the gears working behind his eyes just as your were. “Exactly.”

Peña shook his head at your side, hands on his hips in his usual pose that reeked of barely contained sass. “Steve, they already have your passport on file, you stupid gringo. How is a cover going to work then they have you damn face memorized?”  
Steve closed his eyes, breathing deeply as a sly smirk cracked his face.“I’m not talking about me, Javier. I’m talking about you two.”

A moment passed. And another.

You blinked up at Steve like he had just told you a jar of peanut butter was running for President of Colombia. His smirk never wavered. Fuck. He was serious.

You panicked, risking a glance up at Peña at your side, who was completely frozen in his pose from before, unblinking. You would have laughed if you weren’t so wholly terrified, for a completely different reason than the insanely dangerous espionage part of this plan.

It was at that moment that Peña broke out into a laugh for you. His voice boomed in the embassy, causing a few startled receptionists and secretaries to look up from their work. After a moment of semi-delirious laughter, Pena faded into breathy chuckles that you made a mental note of really enjoying. For some reason.

“Steve, man. I’ll hand it to you, that was a good one. You had me there for real,” Peña breathed, hands solidly on his hips as before. “I’ll get you next time when you least expect it too.”

Steve opened his eyes, pinning them on Peña. He didn’t say anything. You looked between the two of them, panic surging again as the air crackled between the two men. There was suddenly way too much testosterone in the embassy (as it was honestly every day, but in this moment you felt like you might choke on it).

“You...can’t be serious. She’s-“

“Unmarked, unseen, unregistered, and unknown. She’s the only one of us who hasn’t already been tagged by the cartel,” Steve breezed over Peña’s protests smoothly. “Nothing about this operation asks for violence or blood. This is simply gathering intel like we always do, but this time, we can’t afford to have another informant ‘disappear’. You and I both know Escobar is already getting wise to our internal sources.”

Peña rubbed another hand over his face, with more force than last time. You simply stared up at him, almost dumbly. This man was really gonna be the only thing standing between you and a blood thirsty cartel on an espionage mission. Nice.

“For fuck’s sake, I can’t take you seriously right now. No violence with the cartel? When has that ever actually happened?” Peña laughed humorlessly, voice raising until he was only a decibel away from shouting. He swiftly motioned to you, “And don’t even get me started on-“

“Excuse me, Agent Peña, but please don’t speak for me,” you cut in solidly, eyes freezing over. You’d had enough of this pointless infighting. “Since I am going to be the one getting the intel as Steve is proposing, I don’t think your opinion has any relevance or weight towards this mission. I suggest you instead find Colonel Carrillo and begin discussing equipment and correspondence options for the both of us,” you continued, voice frosty and stare as cool as ice.

At that, Peña locked eyes with you, just as he had on your first day at the embassy. Your previous show of confidence seemed to evaporate on your tongue at the intensity of his gaze. He stared right at you, pinning you down into your chair like a butterfly in a frame. Few people had ever looked at you exactly like that. You felt something oddly stirring below your gut that you didn't want to name. You found yourself once again asking yourself what this man’s problem was.

“You got it, princess,” Peña all but growled before stalking off to Carrillo’s department, eyes torn from yours. You felt like you could finally breathe again, but the panic was still settling deeper into your chest.

You had no idea how this was going to work.

Steve whistled, and you looked back at him. “Man, you sure do get him hot around the collar.” If anyone else had said that to you, you might’ve taken offense to it, but since it was Steve you just laughed. You could feel the tension melting away from you with each passing moment out of Peña’s presence.

“I don’t know how we’re gonna pull this off, Steve. If you have any advice, feel free to share,” you chuckled tiredly, pulling your head into your hands as you leaned into your shiny desk. 

“I’d say he’ll warm up to you but I don’t think that would help, now that I think about it,” Steve huffed. “Come to my office, I’ll brief you on what we need to prepare for before Friday.”

You slowly moved your head out of your hands and stood, shuffling behind Steve’s long strides.

Spending a night in a club with the cartel didn’t really spark the anxiety in your chest that you were feeling now. Hell, even the idea of speaking to a sicario who had probably more bodies to his name than you wanted to know didn’t scare you like it should. You had always been headstrong and brave in the face of danger, eagerly willing to put your life on the line for the good of the mission if it meant good for others, as stupid as that might sound. No, that all sounded all right by you. That’s what you had signed up for, after all.

A grumpy, alcoholic and perpetually horny partner who would rather blow his brains out than treat you like his equal that was supposed to protect you while on a covert intel mission? 

Now that was a tough sell if you’d ever heard one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot! Woohoo! Excited to see where this is going ;)
> 
> As always, hope you enjoyed and please feel free to leave a comment on how I'm doing! I'm having lots of fun writing this <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much Javi in this chapter!! Spanish translations are at the end. Please enjoy!

After Steve’s pitch to you and Peña, you spent the rest of the work day discussing the specifics of the mission with Steve while Peña talked mission safety with Carrillo.

Everything seemed pretty self-explanatory, you would be running point on intel recon and Peña would be overseeing your safety during and after the completion of the mission. You’d have a cover as an American tourist, a single woman enjoying the night life of Columbia. There shouldn’t really be a reason for you to need to use this cover, but if anyone outside of the contact approached you or shit hit the fan, that was the plan. It was imperative that your true identity stay under wraps, both for your safety and for the possibility of future use of the agency.

There was not supposed to be any violence or conflict during this trip, and Steve had been pretty adamant about that.

“When I say no conflict, I mean it. Anyone in that shithole spots a known DEA agent crawling with cartel sicarios, it’s over. We can’t risk this contact, under any circumstances,” Steve said sternly, pacing back and forth behind his desk in thought. 

You leaned casually into a chair across from him, watching him with a smile. You appreciated how comfortable you could be when you were around him, like you were real partners. It filled you with greatly needed belonging. “Trust me, Steve, the last thing I want is to be a gringa in a cartel club when bullets start flying. If I may, I don’t think I should be the one getting the lecture.” 

Steve barked out a laugh at that. “You won’t hear me disagreeing with you on that one. Carrillo’s specifically tasked Peña with staying in your getaway car and recording your conversation through your earpiece. He’ll be able to contact you through that, but unless you’re alone, you wouldn’t be,” he replied, “You’ll be the only one in that joint.”

You smirked at that. “Smart. Keep him away from the action. Seems like a solid plan to me,” you sighed out as Steve lit a cigarette. “Get in, get out.”

Steve exhaled. “Yeah, just don’t get too cocky, kid. These bastards are slippery, and they’ve managed to be one step ahead of us for basically every recon we’ve done so far. I don’t think they’ll see this coming, but you can never be sure.” You could tell he was deep in thought, gnawing on his cigarette as he paced.

The fear of the mission hadn’t really settled in yet, but you imagined it would as the week dragged on. For some reason, you still felt the initial glow of the honor to have been chosen for this mission, however convenient it may have been for them to throw an unmarked agent into the field headfirst. If you were honest with yourself, it sure beat throwing files back and forth for a whole quarter.

“Hey, don’t worry about me. I was trained for this, like, yesterday,” you said with a smile, breaking Steve’s trance as he turned to look at you like he just remembered you were there. He laughed heartily, exhaling again.

“Don’t joke like that around Javi, he might have an aneurysm,” Steve replied as he let his shoulders relax.

Now that set you back on edge. How exactly were you going to handle Peña? You knew logically he would have your back as a fellow agent, but he still kept rubbing you the wrong way. As much as you couldn’t give two shits about the older DEA’s business, you knew it would be important to start on common ground to cooperate on a mission of this kind of importance.

“We’ll see, sometimes my mouth works before my brain does,” you huffed out, pulling at wisps of hair that had fallen out of your braid.

“That’s something you can both agree on.” Steve sat down at his desk, opening more files from his cabinet. He tossed a few over to you. “To prepare, why don’t you take a look at these. They’re everything we have on Pablo’s sicarios, it would be good to have their faces and names down pat for when you debrief.”

You got up, stretching your back lazily. “On it, partner. Let me know if you hear anything else from Carrillo or our contact before the day’s out.”

Steve nodded as he put his cigarette out. “What I know, you know, ma’am.”

You gathered up the files with a smile, nestling them in the crook of your arm as you fake saluted on your way out of Steve’s office. With a sigh, you laid them out on your own desk, taking up most of the space there.

You had a lot to memorize.

-

The sun bled across the sky as you worked, dying light hush over the pile of papers on your desk. You lit your desk lamp, illuminating the empty office.

You sighed deeply, leaning back in your chair as you scrubbed at your face with your hand. You weren’t sure what time it was, only that you had been staring at these files for hours. Logically you knew you still had a full week before your mission, but you still felt like you were playing catch-up with the boys. Petty as it were, you silently hoped your visual dedication to this mission would show your partners (mostly Peña) how serious you were about your job. The jury was still out on whether or not that was working.

“It’s getting late, chica. These streets are no more fun in the night as they are in the day.”  
You stifled a jump as you recoiled from the voice cutting through your thoughts. You turned around to spot Peña in the doorway, leaning against the frame in a casual button-up with his trademark sly grin.

“Agent Peña. Need something?” Your gaze turned flinty, closing off your expression after your adrenaline rush from his entrance.

Peña chuckled darkly. “A lot of things, actually. But for now, I wanted to talk to you about our intel mission.”

You squared your shoulders in your chair as best you could, leaning back as you smiled.

“I knew you’d have to talk to me eventually. Okay, so what I was thinking-“

“No,” Peña said simply, cutting you off swiftly as he stepped towards your desk.

You had to close your eyes and breathe very deeply through your nose to not stand up right then and there and go toe to toe with him.

“Agent Peña, I would certainly love to know just what it is about me that seems to get under your skin, because I can tell you plainly that you are doing a great job getting under mine,” you breathed out strongly. “We have a mission that we are doing together, and the only way we can do that successfully is if we-“

“Do it together, yes I know, kid. I get the Disney stuff. But I don’t think you understand what you're gonna be up against in there,” Peña said lowly, moving to lean against your desk. You bristled at the action as he encroached on your personal space more by the second.

“Are you questioning the adequacy of my training, Agent? Or are you questioning the adequacy of me?”

You met his gaze, and you could feel it clang in the air like steel hitting steel. His eyes were intense, but so were yours. If this man thought he was gonna be able to give you a hard time, he had another thing coming.

“I am Quantico trained, top of my class, a perfect shot and vetted by the head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I don’t know what kind of morons they let off the street join the DEA, but I’ll be damned if I let my own partner treat me with such obvious disrespect. If you have a problem with me, I’ll be happy to talk to someone else about reassignment,” you gritted out. “Oh, and I’m not talking about mine,” you added with a smirk.

Peña’s hand twitched on your desk. His big hands that were just inches away from yours. Fuck why did you keep think about him like that?  
“Yeah? Why don’t you go talk to Agent Murphy about this? You seem to be the best of friends now,” Peña all but sneered at you. You could see the individual hairs of his mustache from how close he had gotten.

Your eyes turned to stone like the flip of a dime. “Are you kidding me right now? You're really standing here talking down to me about Steve, when he has been the only person in this fucking team who has made even a crumb of effort to include me.”

Something flashed in his eyes, barely perceptible but you picked up on it. He was challenging you.

You stood up, chair legs scratching on the linoleum of the floor. Your freezing gaze never left his, and where you regarded him with ice he meet with flames. You hated that you still had to tilt your head up to look him in the eye. Damn tall ass male agents.

“Look, we’re partners whether you like it or not, Peña. You don’t have to be my friend, but I can’t have you be my enemy. Not when my life is on the line. Is that clear?”

At that, he did something you didn’t expect him to do. He smiled.

Peña pushed his hands off your desk with a chuckle, turning away from you as he laughed. You saw him pull out a cigarette.

“Mujeres de mierda,” he mumbled as he lit it, just like he had forgotten you were there. You strained to hear what he was saying. “Siempre las hermosas.”

This guy had to be crazy. You restrained the urge to start waving your hands comically over your head in a play to get his attention. “Excuse me? I’m over here, Agent Peña.”

He turned around to look at you, giving you yet another up-and-down like he had in your apartment hallway. His gaze burned everywhere he looked, leaving you feeling like he had touched you in all the places his eyes grazed. You couldn’t help but shiver. “You're too fucking pretty to be here,” he finally said in between puffs of his cigarette.

And just like that, the fuse had stopped.

“Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” You responded with a forced playfulness, inwardly trying to stop the sparks that had caught at his words. No matter how you rationalized it, Javier Peña just called you pretty. And you really didn’t know how to handle it.

Peña chuckled, and it fanned the flames raging low in your stomach. You desperately wanted to know what game he was playing so you could play, too. For some reason, this whole thing felt unfair.

“Come on,” is all he said, heading out the door. 

You balked at his exit, but shuffled hurriedly behind him. “Where are you going?”

“I’m walking you out,” he threw over his shoulder, still smirking. “You look like you need a drink.”

It was then you noticed where all the flames had ended up. Right on your stupid blushing face.

“For fuck’s sake,” you muttered, hastily gathering your jacket and bag. You picked up your pace to catch up with him, quickly realizing that his strides were almost as long as Steve’s. You felt like you were always going to be shuffling just to catch up to those two.

Outside the night was dark, but the city seemed like it was just now coming to life. Lights lit up the street and store fronts, and bar signs began blinking in time with your strides. Passerby laughed happily, and you smiled to see them. You felt like you had only just scratched the surface of the beauty of this country and this city. A city you wanted to protect.

The short walk back to your apartment building was quiet, Peña leading the way like the gentleman he was and you following in his steps. He had tossed his cigarette back at the embassy, and now his hands stayed in the pockets of his leather jacket. The smoke clung to him, even among the sights and smells of the city coming to life around him.

He must’ve felt you looking at him, you were sure, but he never said anything about it. You wondered if he felt weird at all about your conversation at the embassy. Should you feel weird about it? You pondered silently.

“Here we are, a la casa. My home and your home, for the time being,” Peña gestured grandly as you both made it to the steps of your shared apartment building.

You smirked up at him. “What a gentleman, thank you for walking me home, Agent. Good to know you don’t think I can walk a whole two blocks by myself,” you grinned slyly.

Peña responded by folding his arms over his chest, eyes molten on yours. “Now what would make you think that?”

You simply laughed, brushing past him to climb the stairs to the front door. You couldn’t be sure but you knew you could feel his eyes on you. The fact that his steps took so long to ring out on the stairs after yours felt like pretty damning evidence to that point.

You reached your door, looking back to find Peña had reached his too. He was looking at you back.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you at the office,” you said, practically feeling the eye roll in your voice.

“Guess so, partner,” Peña added with a smirk, promptly opening his door and whisking himself away.

Boy were you glad he did, because you were pretty sure you melted into the floor after that. It was what little strength you had left from that encounter that landed you squarely on your mattress, staring at the ceiling for the rest of the night.

He finally called you partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my Spanish, please feel free to notify me of any mistakes in the comments! I hope you enjoyed, I'm so excited for the next chapter!! ;)
> 
> "Mujeres de mierda": Fucking women.
> 
> "Siempre las hermosas": Always the beautiful ones.


	5. Chapter 5

Like most things, the days before your mission seemed to bleed together.

You were feeling a baseline anxiousness, which you mostly chalked up to it being your first mission in the field since training and you were in a country that was still new to you. Even so, you couldn’t shake a sense of foreboding, like a rainstorm that sweeps in on the heels of a cloudless day.

Still, you were pretty clear with yourself that this uneasiness didn’t have much to stand on. The excitement seemed to drown out your uncomfortableness, and that was especially helped by your newfound comfortability with your partner, Agent Peña.

You weren’t sure what you had done right in your previous conversation that night at the office, but it finally seemed like the man was coming around to accepting you. He started including you in conversations with Steve, and he would actually look at you when you spoke instead of staring at you out of the corner of his eye (which you always saw, as inconspicuous as he thought he was). He even joked with you every once in a while, which wasn’t anything special but it worked like magic to set you at ease. You weren’t gonna get carried away with all this progress, but it was nice to classify him in your brain as a “friendly acquaintance” instead of another work roadblock. 

Even so, whenever your shared mission came up, he seemed to revert back to his original factory settings, regarding you with what you could only classify as mistrust. You really weren’t sure what you were gonna have to do to get him to trust you on this.

It was during this thought in particular that a shrill ring jolted you in your chair, hand coming up to cover your heart on instinct. Damn loud ass phone, you thought. How many possible things could there be in this office that made you jump? Maybe you were just that high-strung.

You picked up your desk phone and nestled it between your shoulder and ear. It was probably Steve, he was out of the office today speaking to a different intel source in Bogota. You quickly stated your last name into the receiver while you scribbled more notes down on the file you were currently picking apart.

“It’s Peña, I need you at Garcia’s barrio ASAP,” a deep voice all but choked out over the static of the speaker. Your heart caught in your throat at his tone, dark and strained.

“Are you hurt? Are you okay?” You clutched the phone tighter as fear prickled at the corner of your eyes.

You could hear Peña sigh over the phone. “Fuck, kid, just get the hell over here. Now.”

There was no room for questions or disobedience in his tone, and like a dog you hung up the phone and threw on your denim jacket to hurry out the door just as he said. Fuck, what kind of trouble was he in?

You snatched up a field first aid kit and your gun just in case and tossed it in your bag, spilling out onto the street and desperately trying to remember which direction Garcia’s was in. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered to yourself as you whipped your head back and forth on the street. “Um....right, right?”

You nervously brushed fly aways from your ponytail behind your ears, biting your lip as you steeled yourself in what you hoped was the right direction.

Your feet picked up speed quickly, and you were thankful you had chosen a pair of form-fitting capris and worn-in tennis shoes to wear today. If you had known you were going to be chasing down a grumpy agent in peril, you might’ve picked a blouse you didn’t like as much as this one.

Shoving away your thoughts, you tried to focus your attention back to where the barrio was. Most of the signs on this street looked the same, so you began peering in windows for any sign of Peña as inconspicuously as you possibly could. You had no idea what kind of trouble he had gotten himself in, so you thought it would be best to draw as little attention to yourself as possible until you knew what was going down.

Leaning in to look through yet another shop window, you suddenly felt a strong hand on your forearm and another snake up to cover your mouth from behind. In a blink of an eye, you were being pulled into a dark alley next to the shop.

Panic flared in your chest, and you tried to scream but only heard yourself in muffled whispers through your attacker’s hand. You squirmed and kicked out as you were dragged further into the alley, moving as much as you could to get a glimpse of the assailant. Their body was solid and hot at your back, like you were leaning into a damn brick wall. However this person was, they were strong as hell. 

Your training kicked in, and you cursed your panic at the delay. You moved your foot as high in the air as you could and brought it down hard on your attacker’s shin, which earned you a hiss from behind you. The strong arms loosened, and you brought your elbow behind you to land solidly at the assailant’s chest before the arms were back, wrapping around your middle until your backside was flush against your attacker’s front. Every part of their body on yours burned you like wildfire. Anxiety bit at your throat again, and you opened your mouth you yell-

“Shh, shh, hermosa, it’s me,” the voice behind you growled into your ear, barely-stifled pain stitched in his gasping breaths that felt hot on your neck.

Your brow furrowed, confusion quickly replacing the panic as you squirmed again in his vice-like arms. “Peña? What the fuck?”

The agent’s arms loosened, and you shoved out of his grasp to face him like lightning. Your eyes drank him in, from his disheveled hair to his blown-out pupils to his wrinkled shirt and all the way back up again. His gaze seemed to cut into you like you were fucking Christmas ham.

“What the actual fuck, man?” You gasped out between breaths, just as hyped on adrenaline as he was. “Could you not have just-“

“Shut the fuck up,” Peña seethed, stepping into you again as you backed away from him on instinct. “La Quica is right above us.”

You were sure your heart was already about to beat out of your chest, but Peña’s barely contained whispered admission made it pump that much faster. La Quica? One of Escobar’s closest sicarios? This was huge.

“Holy fuck,” you mouthed, eyes enormous as you glanced up at the fire escape above you. Sure enough, La Quica was poised right outside the third-story window, arms leaning into the frame as he hissed into a walkie-talkie.

“I need you to cover me,” Peña whispered, bringing your attention back to him. He reached behind his back to grab his gun from his waistband, switching the safety off quietly.

Your gaze turned incredulous. “Cover you? You're... going up there?” Was he serious? “Peña, we don’t have back up, we need to call Noonan first before we-“

He turned back to you again, looking you up and down quickly. “What are you talking about? I’m looking right at my back up,” he said in a hushed way that felt husky in your ears promptly before ascending the fire escape.

Struck by his admission, you waited a solid two seconds before you were reaching into your own bag and cocked your gun, willing your pride at his words to not spill out of your mouth. Focus. You got this.

You followed a few steps behind Peña on the fire escape, noticing that La Quica had moved back into the room. You didn’t have a visual on him yet, but you kept a sharp eye below you as your partner edged closer to the third story door. 

Once you had both reached the top platform, Peña signaled to you to stay behind him while he entered the flat. You nodded, brow furrowed in concentration and adrenaline pumping through you. The sight of sweat dripping down the older agent’s forehead comforted you momentarily, reveling in the idea that he was just as anxious and excited as you. You let the good feeling of being on a real team wash over you, just for a moment.

Steeling his gaze on yours, Peña moved back from the door, crowding you behind him with his larger frame against the fire escape railing. In one swift movement, he kicked the door open and busted into the room, door falling of the hinges as he swept the room with his gun. 

You followed swiftly behind, watching all the corners just like you had been taught to do in training. Seeing no signs of life in the dingy apartment, you followed Peña as he moved into the next room, body tight like a wire ready to be uncoiled.

Just as you were about to cross into the next room, gunfire rang out as plaster fell into your eyes, and you pushed yourself back into the previous room. 

“Fuck!” You heard Peña shout as the sound of returned gunfire echoed, his footsteps falling heavy as he moved away from where you were. 

You chanced a glance from behind the doorframe you were currently pressed against, gun held impossibly tight in your grip. Seeing no one, you carefully stepped into the new room, knuckles white on your gun as you breezed past broken chairs and fresh holes in drywall. Plaster particles hung in the air like snow, and you stifled a cough. Focus. Focus. Focus.

A loud bang made you jump, trying to register from which direction it had come from. Holding your breath, you pressed your back to the next doorway, and without time to think about it you swung your gun into the hallway with your head following. 

You spotted Peña at the end of the hallway, the side of his gun resting against his sweaty forehead as he breathed deeply. Your shoulders immediately relaxed, and you shuffled out from behind your place against the wall with your gun lowered.

Peña kicked at a busted piece of drywall in front of him, making a dent in the wall in which it had originally come from. It made you shiver as your adrenaline subsided. 

“He got away,” he snarled, head hanging low as he turned his broad back to you.

Fuck.

-

You had both agreed not to say a damn thing about your failed tip to catch La Quica, resigning yourselves to only tell Steve if you were directly asked about it. Otherwise, you weren't technically lying about it. At least, that's how Peña seemed to think about things when he told you that word for word on the way back to the embassy.

To you, letting you and Peña lick your own wounds about this worked out just fine for you, because you secretly weren’t all that beat up from your impromptu mission gone wrong. You felt selfish and childish when you thought about it, but not catching La Quica wasn’t the biggest deal of your mission today. You knew logically if you had caught that slimy bastard, it could’ve been the big break you, Peña, and Steve had been working for.

But even that thought couldn’t dampen your spirits. Because Peña had actually trusted you to be his back up. Sure, his choices were limited, but he could’ve done this by himself. A stupid thing to do, to be sure, but stupid didn’t really seem like a deal breaker to Peña. Ever.

You were elated by this action of trust, banishing your previous hesitations about your upcoming mission and solidifying your partnership in your head with Peña. It felt like such a rush to be able to be trusted by someone again, and you quietly preened at the thought of that person being Agent Peña. Peña trusted you to watch his back.

“Hey, thanks for, uh, not freaking out today,” the man in question huffed behind you uneasily, startling you from your desk.

You turned, smiling up at him genuinely. “Next time you're going to drag me into a dark alleyway against my will, give me a heads up, will you?”

His uneasy expression left him at your response, and a hesitant smile of his own cracked over his face. “Sorry, couldn’t have you squealing while the bastard was ten feet from us.”

You laughed, and you thought you could see a spark light up his dark eyes for just a moment. “No need to apologize, I’m just not used to being manhandled until the third date,” you joked easily as the words flowed out of you. Peña’s hand twitched on his hip.

“I’m definitely not sorry about that hit to your solar plexus, though. You deserved that,” you pointed a finger at him, smiling wirily like a cat over your chair.

“Fair enough,” he grumbled, but the annoyance didn't reach his eyes. He was still looking at you in a way you could only describe as...melt-y. It suddenly felt a few degrees too warm in the embassy.

The sound of someone barking yours and Peña’s names broke you both out of your shared gaze. Steve whisked into your space, cigarette in hand as he eyed both of you.

“Perfect, you're both here,” he nodded. “Everything all set to go for the recon tomorrow?”

Holy shit, the mission was already tomorrow. You found Peña’s eyes once again, and saw that he must’ve been thinking the same thing. He schooled his expression quicker than you did.

“Yeah, as long as you haven’t fucked anything up already,” he drawled. Steve had the lightheartedness to feign mock-offense.

“Me? Fuck anything up about an intel mission? You hardly know anything about me at all, Jav,” Steve replied haughtily. 

You laughed, tension leaving you as you heard them bicker. They were obviously sure everything was going to be fine tomorrow. Technically, it would be easy. Just look hot, find your target, get the information, and get out. 1, 2, 3, 4. Easy peas.

“I’ll be seeing you two tomorrow, 800 sharp to get you both ready to head to the club. Carrillo’s gonna be here, too, to make sure equipment’s good and what not. He’ll give you a once-over before you start,” Steve motioned to you. “He’d never say it out loud but he loves playing dress up on covert espionage missions.”

That got a laugh out of you, and you moved to stand up between the two male agents. “Now that's a shock.” You breezed past Peña to grab your denim jacket from the door, his eyes lingering on your shoulders as you put it on. “I’m excited to see what he picked out for me to wear to the ball.”

Steve stifled a chuckle while Peña rolled his eyes, and they followed you out of your door into the main embassy hallway. 

The three of you bickered like that all the way back to your apartment buildings, Peña only pitching a joke in here and there while Steve howled at your quips. The feeling of belonging rose in your chest again, threatening to burst into your throat as you silently glowed through your smile.

This was the best you had felt your entire time here. You didn’t want to let it go.

“See you clowns tomorrow, 800 sharp,” Steve threw over his shoulder as you and Peña crossed the street to your own building. “I’m saying that for your benefit, Javi,” Steve added pointedly.

Peña just turned and flicked him off, walking backwards as you hopped up the stairs behind him. 

You both entered the main hallway, moving towards your door. You turned to see the older agent with a cigarette dangling from his lips, fumbling loudly with his keys in front of his own door.

You let yourself smile to yourself, feeling nothing but barely-contained pride as you beamed at your partner. He really was just a handful, and then some.

“Get some rest tonight, Peña,” you said with a smirk.  
His molten eyes met yours, unlit cigarette still in his mouth. The way he looked at you this time felt different than all the other times he had. The intensity always there, but the meaning was not the same. Your smirk seemed to die on your mouth.

“Tu tambien, hermosa.”

You turned your unlocked doorknob and stepped into your apartment, breathing for what felt like the first time in days as the door closed behind you. Filing your thoughts away, you rested your head against the door, wondering how tomorrow was going to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly was I excited for this chapter!! Which is crazy because I'm like bouncing off the walls for the next one >:) 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!! Please feel free to leave a comment on how you like the story so far, and let me know how I'm doing! <3
> 
> See y'all soon!


	6. Chapter 6

Whatever nerves you thought you had banished in the past week about this mission were back in full force.

Your day had been spent pacing back and forth from one end of your apartment to the next, deep in thought to mentally prepare yourself as much as you could before you had to meet your team at the embassy this evening. As simple as you knew this mission was, you couldn’t completely drown out the nervous jitters, but they had a curious way of melting into excitement once you opened the embassy door to find Steve, Carrillo, and Peña gathered around Carrillo’s desk, deep in conversation.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, for no other reason than for the broken record in your head that couldn’t believe you were finally a part of such a band of badasses. You wondered if this would ever get old.

“Man, am I late?” 

Three heads turned at the same time to look at you, Steve breaking out into a smile and Carrillo staying as stoic as ever. Peña regarded you with something akin to fear, and the thought alone made you want to laugh. 

“Right on time, actually,” Steve replied, “Javi was actually early for once, so I can understand why you would have to ask.”

That earned him a quick smack on the shoulder from Peña, whose mildly fearful expression quickly turned into a scowl directed at your other partner. Your laugh from earlier spilled out of your mouth, and it eased the tension you could feel in the air. The only one who seemed to be really at ease was Carrillo, and even that was just a guess. You were pretty sure you had never seen the man do anything but glower. 

You met the three men in the middle of the room, planting yourself between Peña and Steve in front of Carrillo. Peña seemed to shuffle a few inches away from you, which would've been imperceptible if he hadn’t swallowed so thickly when you were near. 

Man, he must really be nervous about this mission. Maybe you should be too, you entertained the thought briefly.

“Now that we’re all here, let’s get right to it,” Carrillo started, his voice reverberating around the room like thunder. “This needs to be a quick operation, no nonsense. We have one agent in the field and one covering from outside, so there’s little to no room for error.”

Straight to the point, that’s what you liked about Carrillo. You had to admit though, his bedside manner needed just a bit of work.

“No pressure at all,” you retorted, giving Peña a quick elbow at his arm. He shot you a pained look. Yeah, he was gonna be no fun.

Carrillo said your name, bringing him to the forefront of your mind. “Do you remember how you're supposed to identify the informant?”

“Yep. Go to the back of the club by the second exit, stand there quietly like I’m waiting for someone to pick me up, and look for the guy who comes up to me and offers me an Old Fashioned. Though I’ll be honest, I’m more of a Johnny Vegas girl myself.”

“Of course you are.”

This time, it was Steve’s turn to get elbowed. 

“Agents,” Carrillo warned, looking severely between you and Steve as he sputtered at your jab. “Murphy, take Peña and get him hooked up to the comms in the vehicle,” he motioned over to you. “I’ll take care of the outfit change.”

Steve chuckled, patting you briskly on the shoulder. “Have to get the princess ready for the ball, can’t forget.”

You laughed, appreciating Steve’s attempts at lightening the mood. Peña just sulked, clearly in a sour mood, at least more so than usual. 

“Come on, grumpy,” Steve huffed, leading Peña out of the room. He left without looking at you, taking the metaphorical rain cloud solidly planted over his head with him.

You turned back to Carrillo, trying to slap the jitters out of you. Carrillo was always all-business, which was probably for the best at this point. Jokes aside, it was time to get your head in the game.

And your body in a ridiculously stupid dress.

-

Turns out, Carrillo was really great at espionage.

He was an experienced military man and government servant, which meant he knew a metric shit ton about going undercover. He even did it once for over a year before he started publicly hunting narcos. It was hard for you to imagine having to do this for months, let alone just one night. You let him talk to you the entire time you got ready, feeding you advice and tidbits of information about your mission as you shuffled into your clothes.

The clothes in question were much less helpful.

Carrillo had thrown you a dress that felt a lot more like bunched-up scraps of shimmering fabric, but you did your best to put it on as you thought it was supposed to be worn. You threw it on in your office, shimmying it over your plain bra and panties before you realized that whatever this garment was was not conducive with regular old bras and tossed it on the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes.

It hugged your body way more than you were used to, and it was cut low on your chest showing a lot more cleavage than you had silently hoped it would. The dress held tight all the way down to your knees, rucheing together at your midsection in a gaudy mess of embellished beads and jewels. You looked like a Whitney Houston back-up dancer at a Grammy after-party. 

Turning around in front of the mirror in your office to get a look at your backside, you momentarily changed your mind at your previous thought. You looked like a hot Whitney Houston back-up dancer at a Grammy after-party.

Setting aside your feelings about the dress, you set to work on your hair and let it fall out of your braid. You didn’t think it looked too horribly, resigning yourself to fluff it vigorously so it fell around your shoulders softly. 

You took your time putting on makeup, focusing on replicating what you had seen in magazines and television soaps you watched whenever you wanted to let your mind drift after a long day’s work at the embassy. After painting your lips red and lining your eyes until you accidentally poked yourself in the eye, you let yourself breathe. The person in the mirror was surely you, but a version of you you had never met before.

The feeling of putting on a mask settled over your face the longer you stared at yourself, and you embraced it instead of throwing it away. You were putting on a mask. This whole outfit was a mask. You weren’t an FBI-trained agent who could shoot circles around any person in this building or who knew the middle name of every sicario in Pablo Escobar’s metaphorical narco rolodex. You were a fun-loving American woman trying to catch a break, being paid off by the DEA on a dark night looking for narco intelligence and a quick buck.

You saw your own gaze turn to steel in your reflection, no longer feeling like a clown and yet no longer feeling like a woman. Tonight, you were a weapon.

Swift knocks rang out in your small office space, breaking you from your thoughts.

You looked down at yourself, quickly smoothing out the folds of your dress and shimmying it as high as you could over your breasts. There really wasn’t enough fabric to go around.

Opening the door, you let Carrillo’s eyes sweep over you, a sexless gaze that was all business and no party. You briefly wondered what his wife was like.

“Presentable I take it?” You said after a pause.

Carrillo nodded, moving to swiftly adjust a piece of hair that had fallen into your face.

A whistle broke out among the relative quiet of the empty embassy.

“Man oh man, kid. You sure do clean up nice,” Steve grinned as he walked in, Peña hot on his heels.

You smirked at him deviously. “You know I can still roundhouse you in this dress, right?”

Steve laughed, and it was then that you really noticed Peña. His hands were stuffed firmly in the pockets of his jeans, face looking murderous as he looked between you and Carrillo. His gaze felt hot on your neck and shoulders, like he was trying to look through you. You felt your own laugh dry up in your mouth with your withered confidence. Just one look from him, and you suddenly questioned everything about this mission.

You were sure he could hear your thoughts with the way he looked at you, wildfire burning bright and quick up to your ears like you were on display for him and only him. It made your own gaze waver, turning to look back at Carrillo just so you had a chance to breathe.

“The car’s ready to go,” Peña huffed out. “We should get a move on if we want to catch the informant.” You thought he might spit as he rolled the last word out of his mouth.

“Fine. Agent Murphy and I will stay in the embassy while you depart. Agent Peña, keep your comm on for the entire duration of the mission. We’ll be able to feed information back and forth from here, but don’t forget to stay in your position until the objective is complete.”

Peña moved to put his hand on your back, and you felt his touch jump when he realized there was nothing but your warm skin there. You bit the inside of your cheek and willed yourself not to gasp. How old were you, 13?

“We’ve got it, Colonel,” Peña said, and you could’ve sworn his voice wavered just slightly as he used his hand to guide you out of the embassy.

“Good luck,” Steve called, and you turned your head to see him flashing you both with a thumbs up. You smiled back, taking in Steve’s nervous grin and Carrillo’s stony expression before relaxing into Peña’s touch. 

Once outside, you spotted a plain-looking taxi perched on the curb, beckoning to you as your faithful chariot for the night. You almost wanted to laugh at the thought out of nerves alone, but resigned yourself to biting on your cheek so hard you thought you might tear at the flesh there.

Peña’s soft touch left your back, and you had only a split second to stop yourself from asking him to put it back at its resting place before he was opening the back door of the taxi for you.

“Never took you for the gentlemanly type, Peña,” you said with mock confidence, gracing him with a playful smile you hoped reached your eyes.

“I’m different with you, princess.”

If that wasn’t the damn truth.

You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic remark, the sneer in his tone bringing you back to the reality of the situation. This was Peña, the certified Asshole of the DEA. As much as his presence comforted you, this was no time to be lamenting lingering touches from your work partner.

You slid into the back of the cab, waiting patiently as Peña settled into the driver’s seat. You fiddled with the comm link planted firmly in the shell of your ear as he started the car and pulled off the curb.

The drive there was silent, static from the comms breaking out over the radio as neon lights blurred past you from nightclubs filling the streets. Even now people were spilling into them, glittering and shimmering in the deafening night. It felt like the city was a completely different place in the dark, simmering with barely restrained energy and sin.

You shivered, turning to look at your partner in front of you as anxiety creeped up your throat. Your palms were sweaty, making the sides of your dress damp from where you clung to it. You noticed a bead of sweat making a trail down Peña’s jaw, just like it had only yesterday when he called you to cover him while he went after La Quica. He had trusted you then, and he would trust you now.

The car slowed to a stop in front of a building lighting the street pink with its giant neon signs, blinking like a distorted lighthouse beacon for lost travelers. People poured into the club, dressed in all kinds of clothes that suddenly made you feel a bit better about your own dress, clinging to you like a second skin. You felt like a viper without her fangs.

“This must be the place,” you sighed, pawing at your hair again to fluff it nervously. 

Peña didn't turn to face you, just stared at your through the rearview mirror like he was watching something he shouldn’t be. Like you would scold him for how his eyes burned your skin even through a mirror.

“Did you double-check your comm?”

“Triple checked it, actually,” you laughed, but it caught in your throat and twisted in a way that made you sound a lot breathier than you meant to.

Peña swallowed like it was painful to do so.

You exited the car, smoothing your dress once again and standing on wobbly legs thanks to your new heels. You’d walked in them before, but you were thankful that you had them to serve as an excuse for your clumsiness instead of your obvious nervousness. Looking at the entrance of the club, you steeled your features and moved to the driver’s side of the car.

You ducked your head down to the window, soaking in Peña’s fleeting shock as he leaned towards you. You cracked a hesitant smile that you hoped looked confident.

“Don’t wait up, okay?”

In a flash Peña had his large hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you so tight you were sure if he held you like that a minute longer it would bruise. A spark traveled up your arm and into your shoulder at the contact.

“Be safe, hermosa,” he said, sounding more like a growl than anything. His dark eyes burned into yours, looking black in the moonlight. You thought if you looked into them for too long you might truly be lost.

“You worry too much, Agent Peña. You're going to look like an old man before you're 50,” you replied with a smile, forcing the lightheartedness into your voice as you tried to shake off his intensity.

He released your wrist, and the cool air on the space where he touched you felt like a balm from a burn.

You granted him a quick wink as you slunk into the night, and try as you might, you couldn’t get the look in his eyes out of your mind. Even as you walked into the pulsating club, bodies separating and coming together like split cells under a microscope you couldn’t forget the way his eyes burned into your brain. It was like when you stared at the sun for too long and you were left with an inverted image of it burned into your retinas. Every time you blinked, he was there. And that felt... dangerous.

Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings quickly as you brain shifted into game mode. Rookie or not, this whole business had always felt like a game to you, just with much higher stakes than a simple round of poker. Setting your face into a sinful smirk, you swayed with the beat of the music as you split through the crowd, cataloguing every face you could in the pink light.

Everything was washed in pink, so heavily saturated in it that the only shades of light in the club were pink or black shadow. The kiss of moonlight from outside of the taxi felt like a dream now, the darkness of the club serving to make your dress glow on your skin like you were a holographic nightmare. You swept the room with your eyes as you dodged dancing men and women on the dance floor, spotting the crowded bar at the far wall and the exits at the back. The club was spacious, but it felt minuscule with the throngs of people taking up space on every platform and railing. 

As you cut between crowds, your breath caught in your throat as a man came into your sights. “Poison,” you whispered to yourself, but no sound registered in your ears against the booming of the bass from the speakers. A high-level sicario of the Medellin cartel and one of Escobar’s most trusted confidants. And he was right in front of you. 

He was leaning against a railing, two young women nestled under each arm as he sloshed a beer over them gleefully. His grin looked extra malicious in this shadowed light.

You remembered to breathe and continued, filing his presence away to relay to Carrillo after the mission. 

When you finally reached the back of the club, sweat was trickling down the back of your neck and into the low hemline of your dress as you caught your breath. You tapped a small button on your comm once to signal to your team you had made it into position, notifying them that you were on your own from here until the completion of the objective. You had this.

You tried to appear bored as you leaned into the black wall, gazing lazily at the inhabitants of the club. When they didn’t blend together they looked like animals in cages, clawing at each other to get out or to stay in. A slower song started to play over the speakers, one in English that made you sway slightly as you waited.

“Miss, can I buy you a drink?”

Your head snapped to your side, leaning towards the voice that seemed to shout over the dance music from the speakers, even with it being much quieter here than on the dance floor. The owner of the voice was tall, with boxy shoulders that seemed to curve over you as you leaned into the wall with hair slicked back to his neck. He had a pleasant face, but a nose you knew must’ve been broken more than once from your knowledge of field injuries.

“You look like you're not from around here, gringa,” the man explained in a thick accent, looking you up and down ravenously. You blinked, resisting the sudden urge to slap this stranger across his attractive cheek. Instead, you took a strand of your hair from behind you ear and twined it around your finger, pushing yourself off from the wall to face him as you grinned.

“You’d be right, cowboy,” you replied sweetly, falling into an accent of your own that you hoped sounded very "southern belle" of you. American charms, and what not.

“An Old Fashioned, then?” 

Your grin split wider, knowing you had your man. “Sounds divine,” you purred, placing a hand on his muscled arm playfully. His eyes flashed at the contact. “But first, can I get your name?”

The man’s eyelids drooped, looking down at you like you were akin to a meal he was hoping to finish. “Maybe next time, dulzura.”

You hummed, trying not to be put off but standing your grounded as he shifted towards the bar. “I think you might have something for me, other than a drink,” you sighed out pleasantly, dropping your gaze before you met his again.

“All work and no play with you people,” he smirked. You smiled back, keeping your mask firmly in place as he eyed you. He leaned down to your shoulder, almost resting his forehead there. You jerked as his breath hit your neck. “Hold still, por favor.”

Before it happened, you looked out into the sea of people undulating on the dance floor and by the bar, wrapping around the entire space as you heard every word from the American song playing over the speakers. The chords rang out and echoed in your ears, eerie and beautiful and haunting all at the same time. And then, as if a spotlight from heaven beamed down just to draw your very eyes at that exact moment, you saw him.

Javier Peña, leaning against the bar staring straight into your eyes with a fury you had only ever read about in books. And it was all directed at you.

And then it happened. Before you could even process your partner’s presence here the man next to you grasped your waist and pushed you into the wall in one swift motion, caging you with his body as he breathed down into your shoulder and darkness covered you completely.

“What-“

“Hold onto me,” the man gruffly instructed, hands resting gently on your midsection. “Look like you’re kissing me.”

Your brain ran a mile a minute, still catching up from all that had happened in less than five seconds. You hesitantly placed your own hands on his shoulders, inhaling through your nose and pointedly not exhaling as your face burned red.

“Tell me what I need to know,” you gritted out, eyes blazing furiously as all pleasantries left you.

“Right to the point, I like that in a woman,” the man chuckled darkly, leaning into you more to whisper. “They are watching us.”

You couldn’t see anything from your position between him and the wall, but your mind whirred at the thought that there was at least one person watching you. Your partner. Who should be in the taxi.

“Escobar is planning something big. He’s upped flights between here and Cuba and has sent Gustavo to the Cali cartel three times this month. I think they’re going to merge soon,” the man breathed against you quickly. You tried to keep up between the ballad echoing in your ear and his own harsh accent against your neck, mind snapping back to attention as you absorbed the information amid the overstimulation.

“Merging with the Cali cartel? Now? That doesn't make any-“

As if lightning had struck, the man was thrown off of you, washing you in hot pink light once again as you reoriented yourself to the new sudden change in position. 

“¿Cuál es tu problema, pendejo?” The man yelled as you eyed none other than your own damn partner curling his fists into your informant’s shirt.

“Eres mi maldito problema, hijo de puta,” Peña spit out, and your mind finally caught up with what was going on just in time as your informant began to shove back at Peña.

“Javier! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You jumped into action, clawing at your partner’s arm still latched onto the other man’s shirt in an attempt to tear them apart. Peña simply shrugged you off of him roughly like you were no more annoying than a fly, but the movement in correlation with your already wobbly heels caused you to fall back into the wall with much more force than was necessary. 

Peña’s eyes flashed to you as he heard you fall, releasing his grip on your informant’s shirt enough so that the pissed off Colombian could spit out another expletive in Spanish just before he disappeared once more into the pulsating crowd. 

“Lo siento, are you okay?” 

In an instant Peña was on you, holding you at your upper arms while you caught your balance against him. His face was etched with concern like a damn Greecian statue, from the set warble of his mustache to the crease between his eyebrows, normally wrinkled from anger but this time practically bleeding with concern. His eyes were melting the longer he looked at you, previous rage just a ghost in his blown out pupils.

Before you could lose yourself in the wonderful feeling of the touch of his large hands on your bare arms, anger sparked in your chest as your mind came to you once more.

“Fuck, Javier!” You yelled over the music, twisting your arms out of his grasp as you sidestepped him away from the wall. “What the fuck are you thinking?” You were practically spitting with rage.

He looked down at you, eyes filled with a myriad of emotions that could’ve been anything. He was unreadable, empty hands twitching at his side from what looked like obvious restraint at not holding you again. Silence stretched on for what felt like forever between you, frozen in place as you stared him down. It was then you realized what he really must see you as. 

Unable to hold your own. Untrustworthy to complete this mission. Unworthy of being his partner. Weak. Weak. WEAK.

“That's why you're here, right?” You whispered unsteadily as your face contorted, hurt spilling out of your eyes. Your voice wavered and you hated it. “That’s why you were at the bar. You didn’t think I could do this,” you choked on your words as traitorous tears pricked at your eyes. “You never did.”

“Hermosa, please, I-“

“Fuck you, Peña,” you spat, not daring to look him in the eye as you said it. “I’ll see you at the office.”

Quicker than you could formulate a second thought, you turned on your heel and stormed into the crowd, never looking back as you meandered through the laughter of strangers bathed in pink and darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew nelly was this a long one!! It was even longer if you can believe it so it's been split into two chapters, so don't worry I won't leave you hanging for long (please don't hate me lol)!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy the story as much as I love writing it <3
> 
> Please feel free to let me know how you like the story in the comments! See y'all real soon ;)
> 
> (P.S. if you wanted to know what the song was that played when Peña and Reader locked eyes in the club, it's "The Promise" by When in Rome, aka my inspiration for writing this story in the first place T.T 


	7. Chapter 7

Pink and black bled together in your vision until you could hardly tell what one thing was from the other as you shoved people away from you with a ferociousness you were unfamiliar with. You felt numb to everything, not hearing the disgruntled yells as you pushed past club-goers and certainly not feeling the sting of tears spilling off your chin in hot streams.

This was pathetic, you told yourself. You were being pathetic. Running away from your partner like some petulant child? Is that really how you wanted him to think of you after he obviously already thought you were incapable of being trusted on a mission?

The violent thoughts sent daggers into your brain, making the tears come harder now as you needlessly berated yourself. It was so like you to make a situation even worse than it already was. Not that that omission made you feel much better. At all.

The cool air of nighttime in Colombia hit your nose, sobering you immediately as you continued your blind walk onto the street. You weren't even sure which direction the embassy was in, but you just wanted to get as far away from your partner as you possibly could.

You heard your name being called in the distance, repeating it until it was creeping closer and closer to you. A small part of you relished the way your name sounded when he said it.

A hot hand wrenched at your wrist, pulling you back from your pointed escape as you fell into a hard chest.

“Huh, feels like we’ve been here before,” you laughed bitterly, avoiding his gaze as you stared up at the moon to will the tears back into your eyes. You didn't need to look at him to know who he was. His breathing was ragged from what you assumed was a quick sprint to reach you, filling the night air with the sounds of him catching his breath. He smelled like sweat and spice and wood and warm.

You stepped away from him after a moment of silence, but your wrist stayed in his vice-like grip, just like it had before in the window of the taxi. The hold was heavy and burned like a brand. You felt like you were sizzling.

“Can you let me go, please?”

“No,” he said simply. “Not until you listen to me.”

It was then you dared to look up at him, nose red from crying and mascara you were sure was smudged absolutely everywhere. His eyes were dark, heavy with concern and what you could imagine was a metric fuck ton of frustration.

“You're embarrassing me, Agent Peña. I don’t find this particularly funny,” you replied in an instant, voice cracking in your throat from crying and expression hard as ice. 

His grip tightened, something you thought was impossible with how hard he was holding your arm now. You worried for a brief moment if he could fracture your wrist.

“You're being difficult for no reason, hermosa,” Peña said.

Your eyes flashed angrily up at him. “Stop fucking calling me that, and get your hand off of me before I scream.” 

You didn't mean for it to sound like a challenge, but it hung in the air like it did. He stared down at you, face twisting in anger set to match yours. But his eyes looked...hungry. Haunted.

You sincerely had no idea what he was thinking right now.

After a long pause you finally twisted out of his hold, rubbing at where his hand had been on your wrist to find the skin tender there. You flashed him one last watery death glare, turning on your heel and continuing your walk back to the embassy, albeit much slower this time.

This time, you did look back. You saw an empty street.

-

The shouts coming from Carrillo’s office were loud, but not loud enough for you to decipher them.

You had changed back into your normal clothes the minute you got back, throwing the dress as far away from you as possible like you wished you could with this entire disaster of a night.

Peña had arrived not long after you, so you only had a brief moment to explain your current state to Carrillo and Steve. Suffice it to say, it hadn’t gone over well.

“You okay?”

You looked up from your desk to see Steve, hands stuffed in his pockets with a look drawn with concern. It gave you an even bigger headache than you already had.

“I’m fine,” you said, too shortly to sound convincing. He quirked a brow, moving to sit in the chair in front of your desk.

“Yeah, not buying it.”

You ran a hand down your face, falling back into your chair ungracefully. “You read minds or something, Steve? Because if you do, you're in the wrong department.”

Steve laughed, brightening at your feeble attempt at humor. “You sound like Connie.”

“She’s a smart woman, don’t know why she’s with your sorry ass, though,” you quipped through closed eyes, rubbing the bridge of your nose to ease the ache there.

“I got real lucky,” he replied simply. “But really, don’t feel down on yourself, kid. Carrillo and I are real proud of you, though you know he’d never say it. The information you brought back is gonna give us some serious headway on our next moves.”

That made you grit your teeth. “But it could’ve been more, if Peña-“

“I know, but you can’t beat yourself up about it. That’s his own damn fault,” Steve said, “and man, is he paying for it now.”

As if on cue, more muffled yells rang out in the embassy, followed by a swift kick. It was no question who that had come from.

Your other partner had been in Carrillo’s office for over an hour, and you could only imagine what was being said in there. To be honest, you were glad you weren’t asked to witness it. You had had enough of Peña for one night.

You got up from your desk, stretching your sore muscles as you moved to grab your windbreaker.

“It’s been a day, I think it’s time for me to head out. Thanks for, uh, being here for me, Steve. I really do appreciate it.”

“You say anything else and I’ll cry, I mean it,” Steve replied with a grin, mirroring your actions.

You finally let yourself laugh at that one. “The tear quota in this office is full today, try again tomorrow.”

You smiled as Steve walked you out of the embassy, following you with a swagger all his own.

“Get some rest kid, you deserve it,” your partner said at the top of the stairs. “You did good.”

Your chest filled with the night air, humming along with the pride you felt at Steve’s words. You smiled. “Thanks, partner.”

Steve waved you off, turning to go back into the embassy as you walked out of eyesight.

-

You were pretty sure your thrifted couch had never been comfier than it currently was in this moment, piled high with as many blankets as you could find and wonderfully warm in your chill apartment.

The second you had returned to your little home you had thrown on sweats and clicked on a late-night soap, not caring what it was but desperate to decompress as you willed your mind to shut the fuck up and wrapped yourself in what you could only describe as a blanket burrito.

That’s how you were, munching on chips, when you heard a swift knock on your door. You looked up from the TV in a daze, hardly registering the fact that someone would be at your door at this hour. You checked your clock. 3:24 am.

You sniffed, unfurling yourself from the sweet comfort of your blankets and couch as you shuffled up to turn on a lamp in the dark living room. 

Before going to the door, you spun on your heel to pull on an old button up as an afterthought, noticing the sudden chill had caused your nipples to pebble indecently. 

Rubbing your eyes, you opened your door.

Your eyes suddenly widened in surprise, drinking in the sight of none other than Agent Javier Peña in front of you.

He was dressed exactly as he had been on your mission, looking just as rumbled and disheveled as he had been hours ago with hands solidly planted on his hips. His eyes were bloodshot, the skin around them tired and looking especially aged as he avoided your gaze. You wrapped your button-up tighter around you on instinct.

“Peña. To what do I owe the please,” you drawled, schooling your shock into boredom.

Your partner looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here in front of you.

“I didn't get the chance to fully apologize for today,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have gone into the bar when you were handling the mission adequately, it wasn't my place and I shouldn't have put the mission in jeopardy because of my own reservations. I should’ve given you a chance before I stepped in. It wasn't fair to you and I messed up. I’m sorry.”

You blinked up at him, processing his words. His eyes were guilty and currently staring intently at a spot over your head. It was the most he had ever said at once to you. And it was...sincere.

“Hey,” you said softly after a beat, and at that he finally let his gaze fall down to yours. “Thank you for apologizing. I forgive you, Agent Peña.”

A spark lit in his eye, so fast you hardly recognized it. As guarded as you knew he was trying to be, he was so authentic in his intent that it almost gave you whiplash from how he was earlier. It was like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders as your words, even after what you could only imagine was the worst verbal flogging of all time by the endlessly terrifying Colonel Carrillo. 

You thought for a brief moment he might not have believed what you said, but he still cracked the smallest grin after the words left your mouth.

“Call me Javi.”

-

The sun was just starting to rise when the unmarked car finally pulled out onto the street, leaving your sleeping body unseen for the first time in hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought the action was over?? We're just getting started! >:)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know how you like the story so far in the comments! See ya soon!! <3


	8. Chapter 8

As the sun peaked through your shuttered blinds, you cracked a single eye open as the light filtered in. Shifting on the bed, you released your hand from its awkward position under you. You moved your fingers hesitantly, finding the nerves there to be numb from where it had been squashed under your ribs. A perfect start to an already below average day.

You groaned, moving to sit up as your non-numb hand carded through your hair. Stretching, the events of the day before flickered through your mind like someone would lazily flip through a catalogue, and you cringed to remember how your mission had ended. 

In tears, literally. 

You looked down at your wrist, the same one that had felt like it had been burnt to a crisp when Peña...Javier, you remembered, held it. 

You were right to think that his hold would bruise, and small, tender purple petals lined the circumference of your wrist like someone had intended to put them there just so. You stared at them, considering them in an analytical way you couldn’t quite place. The softness of his first name thumping around in your mind made the ache there feel almost blissful.

There had to be something wrong with you, you were sure of it.

Filing those thoughts away under the umbrella folder of “Am I just waking up and thinking weird things or have I not gotten laid in that long?”, you shuffled out of bed and pulled on the jeans that you had worn yesterday before your mission. After how you looked in front of your partners yesterday, you weren’t really that worried about your appearance anymore. You’d definitely be staying away from mascara for a while.

Cringing again, you threw on a blouse over a t-shirt and started pulling your hair up. You wanted to make sure you walked into the embassy today with a brave face, knowing most people would be sending you dodged glances full of pity for the rest of the week. The embassy certainly wasn't high school, but they sure all kept up with gossip like it was. There would be no way that the whole office wouldn’t know about you and Javi’s massively embarrassing failure from the night before.

Still, you felt like your partner seemed to surprise you every day. Sure you’d like him a whole lot more if his baseline personality wasn't just being an asshole, but he had seemed to be genuine in his apology. Whether or not he meant it shouldn’t matter anyway, you thought briefly. You’d be stuck with him for the rest of the quarter, whether he actually liked you or not.

The thought made your brow crease. You would have to go back to the States with an update on the DEA operations down here eventually. For some reason the thought of going back home didn’t seem to settle you the way it should.

Shrugging off the unpleasant feeling, you grabbed a muffin to eat on your walk to the embassy and breezed through your front door, only briefly sneaking a glance at your partner's apartment mailbox like it would give you some sort of sign of...something. Just the thought that he had probably touched it this morning made you pause. You wondered if he touched anyone else like he touched you.

You pinched your hand and shut your eyes tight at the thought, willing your brain to stop thinking thoughts and wake up to reality. 

Shaking your head, you stepped into the Colombian sun, drinking in the way the light hit the bodegas and storefronts on your solitary walk to the embassy, willing yourself not to press you fingers against the soft marks on your wrist to relish the feeling there.

-

As it turns out, you had nothing to worry about. Go figure.

The minute you walked into the embassy, you were greeted with nothing but appreciative smiles and warm hands. Your instant confusion was quickly remedied by a swift beckoning by Ambassador Noonan, waving a hand to invite you into her office as you made your way through the busy embassy.

There, Noonan shared with you that the information you had gotten from the sicario, however incomplete, had led Search Bloc to take in a low-ranking Medellin sicario found traveling out of Cali last night, bringing the DEA a lead on Escobar’s supposed operation there. Right place right time for us, wrong place wrong time for him.

You could hardly believe your fucking luck.

“Now, he hasn’t given us anything useful yet, but the knowledge that Escobar has put people in Cali is enough of a connection to get us support in and around the area,” Noonan grinned at you from her desk. “We have more than one reason to believe that Escobar is in talks with his biggest rival, and with a sicario of his caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, the evidence is building towards one thing: a merge.”

“Jesus, ma’am. That’s big,” was all you could respond with, mind whirring at the possibilities of a merge between the two most powerful cartels in the entire hemisphere. “Do you think we’ll have the CIA’s support on this operation? We have to send someone in there, we need more information to confirm this merge is actually happening.”

Noonan smiled knowingly, eyes twinkling like you had said just the right thing. “Already ahead of you, agent. With the capture of this sicario and your presence certifying Bureau support, the CIA has gladly offered their services to this operation. I was just notified before you came in.”

You looked down at the floor to hide the elation that was blossoming over your face, overtaking your previous shame and replacing it with pride. You could hardly believe that your intel had led to this big of a break, and so soon. The thought repeated over and over in your head, solidifying it as the truth there after every repetition.

“Ma’am, I...this sounds too good to be true,” you finally sighed, looking up at Noonan’s warm expression. 

“Don’t sell yourself short, my dear. This is all because of you. Great work.”

You were sure your chest might break a part at her words, washing over you like the greatest feeling you could think of. Your eyes lit up as your smile threatened to break your face apart, sure you looked like a slap-happy fool right now.

“Now get back to it, I need you and Peña on this,” she said, back to her usual air of stern business. “You two have a lot of work to do.”

Standing swiftly, you schooled your expression as best as you could to dampen your glowing excitement breaking out of every pore. “Yes, ma’am.”

Sending you off with a knowing nod, you spun on your heel and exited the office.

You felt like you practically floated the rest of the way to your own office, grin still plainly plastered on your face as you nodded at each of the receptionists and fellow agents who acknowledged you. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this great.

“Look who it is, the new office superstar,” a voice called behind you.

Your grin grew larger still as you turned to see Steve and Javi in your doorway, both meeting your expression with the same light in their eyes.

“Next time, I say we put Javi in the dress. He sure does need to win the office over with how much of an asshole he is,” Steve quipped, earning him a humored eye roll from the partner brushing his shoulder.

“I don’t think anyone would thank you for that, Steve,” Javi replied, smirk reaching his eyes. 

You tried to remember if you had ever seen him in this good of a mood. You stared at his smile for too long, crinkled at the corners of his mouth under his mustache as he glanced at you. It made your stomach ache in a pleasant way you weren’t familiar with, and your breath caught in your throat as the same spark in your eyes was reflected in his for a brief moment.

Steve shrugged, breaking the spell that had settled over you. “Maybe Marisa would, you still seeing her or whatever it is that you call it?”

Javi sent Steve a warning glare, one that you caught. It made your jaw clench imperceptibly on instinct. 

“I heard Carrillo almost beat that sicario bastard within an inch of his life this morning for information, and the best he got was a shirt that needed to be dry cleaned,” Steve changed the subject easily. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“I’d love to hear where you got the impression that cartel work would be easy, Steve,” you threw at him, smirk settling back onto your own features as you crossed your arms nonchalantly.

“Fair enough! I’ll leave you both to it, but I better be seeing you two hardasses tonight,” Steve sang with a wink, breezing out of your office with a quick wave.

The air settled around you and Javi the moment Steve left, feeling slightly heavier as the man in front of you shifted his weight on his hip. You felt like you were being pulled to whatever center of gravity he had when he moved, and you had to stop yourself from mirroring the action.

“Tonight?” The half-asked question left your mouth, brow quirked in a way you hoped looked casual.

Javi rubbed at the back of his head, finding an interesting spot on your wall to look at as you unashamedly watched the tan skin of his neck flex while his eyes were distracted.

“Yeah, the guys are really pumped about this breakthrough, it’s the first solid lead on whatever Pablo’s been cooking in weeks. The bastard doesn’t let us get many wins, if you can believe it,” he huffed in response.

“Hardly,” you laughed, and the sound drew his eyes back to you. The rest of your quip stuck in your throat when you connected with his dark gaze once again. You had no idea how this man had made you feel so exposed all of the sudden. Like he could just look right through you whenever he wanted.

His eyes glanced down at your exposed wrist, and a black look hit lightning-fast to his expression as he registered the faint blooming bruise. It was odd, you couldn’t decipher if it was shame or satisfaction that won over when he finally met your gaze again. You shivered, and you knew he saw it.

“I, uh, wanted to see if you’d come join us at Enrique’s to celebrate,” he finally said, voice much lower than before. “We wouldn’t have gotten this win without you.”

Your eyes widened a fraction, rolling his offer in your head like he had just asked you to ride a magic flying carpet with him. Javier Peña, asking you to a drink with the mates?

You mentally asked no one if this day could get any weirder.

“Extending an olive branch, Javier?” 

He shrugged at your response, smirking that devilish smirk that made the secretaries swoon. “If calling it that will make you come, then yeah.”

“Then I accept your olive branch,” you smirked back, leaning against your desk. “I was wondering when I would finally be invited to the after hours boy’s club activities.”

“Never needed an invitation, princess,” he countered, eyes twinkling as he said it, like it was a challenge. You were beginning to notice how much he liked to push you, and how much you hated that you liked it just as much.

“I do have a name, you know.” You motioned pointedly to the nameplate perched on your desk, sitting idly between the two of you as his grin widened.

He hummed noncommittally, quirking his grin as he looked down at you before he moved to your door to leave. “We’ll see you tonight, partner.”

“Can’t wait.”

You meant it.

-

“Fuck.”

You sighed out the word as your eyes stay glued to your closet, unfocused and unseeing. Agreeing to go out with the team had sounded like a great idea until you realized you had absolutely nothing to wear. 

If you were home, that would’ve been an over-exaggeration due to your common too-picky nature on the rare occasion that you would decide to go out, usually with fellow cadets in the academy you had befriended during training. While you definitely weren’t a fashion icon by any stretch of the imagination, you did like to look presentable when you were with people outside of the realm of work. It just so happened that you really didn't have a lot to work with as you eyed your half-empty closet space.

Blinking, you began shuffling through your limited wardrobe to find something at least mildly “nice”. You never wore anything other than pants and a button-up at work after your fiasco of a first day in your business wear, so you were especially pressed to find something that wouldn’t scream “rookie”.

Though you liked to blame your uneasiness about picking an outfit on your concern for your appearance on your first night out with the team, you knew what the nagging thought at the back of your head really was. 

Peña.

The way he made you feel was undeniable. But you really had no idea what that feeling was.

Friendship? Commraderie? Attraction? Disgust? It all sounded the same to you, but none of them felt right. He made you feel like you were burning up from the inside, sparking in your lungs and making your dry throat sizzle while washing over you like a much-needed balm at the same time. You felt a flush creep up your neck as you thought more about it, already heating at the idea of your "feelings" for Javier.

Even the term “feelings” felt weird to you. Were they even that distinguishable as a thing? Something to be named? You felt like some repressed Victorian maiden.

The thought made you laugh to yourself, and just like that the clouds in your mind shifted. This train of thought was ridiculous anyway, nothing more than work frustration and weirdly timed coincidences. Nothing to worry about.

It was then that you noticed the shirt on the farthest side of your closet, an off the shoulder peasant blouse you had barely remembered you packed. You eyed it, taking in the drop sleeves and light color. It was definitely nicer than anything you wore to the office.

Grabbing the shirt, you moved to find your cropped jeans, remembering that pair in particular for how well it made your ass look good. Not good enough to cause a scandal, but definitely too good to wear to the office. Some of those cavemen already looked at you like a piece of meat, and you had no current desire to spurn them on.

But tonight, it was different. Steve and Carrillo and Search Bloc were going to be there, and you knew you would have a good time with them. You could be comfortable, you knew they had your back.

But the thought of Javi being there too made your breath catch, just for a moment. And then it passed, like waves kissing the sand before leaving once more. Again and again, you thought. It felt different this time in the way that you didn't want it to stop, and you couldn’t help the chilled anticipation that made you shiver in on yourself.

You steeled your expression, looking at your articles of clothing like they owed you money.

Whatever it was, you just hoped you’d be able to keep up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was insanely long, so I chopped it into two again (so sorry!!). Hopefully this won't be a habit, but I have just been so in love with where this story is going I can't stop writing a metric fuck ton for these chapters. I am way too excited for the next one, so I promise it'll be worth the wait! ;) 
> 
> Please feel free to let me know how you like the story so far, your comments have encouraged me so much!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I'll see y'all real soon!! <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Alcohol use

The night life of Colombia was something that had always excited you. Big cities tended to give you that rush no matter what country they were in, and Bogota was no exception. It was like a live wire, lit up just for you and every other person traveling through the neon-lit night from bar to bar, electrifying you just enough that you enjoyed the rush but didn’t make you afraid to get burnt.

You felt that same feeling as you made your way to Enrique’s, a few blocks from your apartment. You thought about taking a cab as you fiddled with your trusty purse, but the air felt just right tonight and you didn’t mind the walk. It was still early enough that the streets weren’t flooded just yet, but you liked seeing the people that passed you by. You often liked to wonder where they were coming from, where they were going. 

It made you smile and momentarily forget your nerves as you remembered to hike up the front of your shirt, feeling only lightly more exposed that usual with the off-the shoulder design of your blouse, leaving no room for a bra. Oh well.

The same anxiety from before started to rattle in your chest as you approached the dimly lit bar that was Enrique’s, surveying the exterior windows as best as you could for a glimpse of your team. You gripped your purse strap impossibly tighter as you spotted them through the glass, casually leaning and sitting against the far end of the bar as they passed drinks around. Steve’s blonde head stood out against the others, towering slightly over Carrillo as he laughed.

You took in a deep breath, feeling a little like a fish out of water for no reason apparent to you. You saw these guys like, literally every day. No reason to be nervous, other than the fact that you were.

“Get a grip,” you laughed to yourself, shaking out your hair one last time before you breezed into the bar.

Steve saw you first, his lanky neck careening around the joint like a damn periscope. His eyes lit up when he caught your gaze, quickly waving you over to where the rest of the team was. You swiftly recognized most of the guys, lots of faces from Search Bloc you had been introduced to but hadn’t had much time to talk to. Carrillo stood stiffly next to Steve, holding a glass in his hand. 

As you walked the long stretch to the end of the bar, Carrillo moved, and then you saw Javi.

He stood against the bar like he had been carved in marble just to stand there, talking comfortably with a member of Search Bloc you had forgotten the name of. He looked just the same as he always did, but for some reason this time, he took your breath away. Your eyes traveled the span of his large hand curled all the way around his glass of whiskey all the way up to his worn leather jacket to his dark eyes and his tousled hair in all but five seconds, which you guessed was probably just as soft as it looked.

When he moved his head to look at you, the air that had been caught in your throat finally expanded. It was like taking a deep breath when wind from the sea blows just right, hitting your nose with the smell of salt and your face with the sweet caress of a touch. You felt as if his hand had been on your face all along. You resisted the urge then to touch it there, just to see if it was. 

In a few short steps, you were solidly planted feet away from Steve and Javi.

“Hell yeah, you made it! I didn’t think Jav would actually invite you,” Steve rushed out as he looked down at you warmly. “Carrillo, you owe me five.”

Carrillo grumbled on cue, fishing out a bill from his breast pocket to throw at Steve. At the sound of his name, Javi closed his eyes like he was willing a headache to subside.

“What are you drinking, kid? I owe you one,” Carrillo smoothly huffed out after Steve had pocketed the fiver with a grin. You looked at him incredulously.

“Owe me one? It was your guys who got the sicario.”

“With your information. Don’t fight me on this, you won’t win.” Carrillo’s stony look down at you gave you absolutely room to argue. You shrugged and leaned against the bar, already feeling loads more comfortable with your focus between him and Steve.

“Hey, you don’t need to twist my arm about it. I’ll have whatever you're having.”

As Carrillo nodded to hail the bartender over, you relaxed even more into the dark wood of the bar. A drink really would do you good, you thought. The easier it was to talk to everyone the more fun this would be for you, and the sooner you got your nerves under control the better.

With that in mind, you quickly averted your gaze away from Javi’s direction as you took a sip of the drink Carrillo had bought you. It didn’t seem to matter, because you could practically feel his gaze burning a hole through your neck as you looked to the head of Search Bloc appreciatively.

“Heard that sicario of yours has been giving you a real hard time,” you said after the first taste of alcohol hit your tongue, already washing you with a pleasant warmth that settled in your knees. It was much needed, your bare shoulders were a little too cold for your liking inside the air conditioned bar.

Carrillo’s brows knit together at your thinly-veiled question, throwing himself back into work-tyrant mode. “Yes, but we’ll crack him. Sooner or later.”

You suddenly didn’t want to know what he meant.

“It’s weird, we’ve been getting more and more tips of Medellin sicarios in Cali now then we do of them in Medellin,” Steve interjected, taking a swig of his own drink. “Whatever it means, I don’t particularly like it.”

“The less of those bastards in our city, the better.”

Steve hummed in agreement with Carrillo, still looking slightly unsettled. The thought didn’t seem to sit that great with you either as you mulled over what your partner’s analysis could mean.

Before you could drift too much farther into unpacking that thought, Javier had detangled himself from the other conversation he had been having when you had entered and turned to face the three of you.

“It’s after five, I don’t want to hear any of you bastards talking work under threat of me beating your ass,” he joked, kicking back the rest of his drink.

That earned him a hearty laugh from Steve, finishing what was left in his glass as well. “All right, all right. Jav’s right, I’ll stop being such a kill joy. Tonight is for our new win, cause I know we have so few of those to celebrate.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Carrillo nodded swiftly as he drank, moving to converse with his fellow Search Bloc team after he finished off his glass. Following suit, you threw back the rest of your drink, suddenly regretting it as you cringed at the taste all at once. College hadn’t been that far away from you, but in that moment, it felt like it really did.

The men turned to order another round of drinks, and you finally acquiesced to Steve’s insistence at buying your next round.

“Treasure this moment, kid. These celebrations are too few and far between,” he grinned as you rolled your eyes, taking his offered drink.

“There you go again, killing the joy,” Javi threw at him lightheartedly.

Steve threw his hands up. “Sorry, sorry. Force of habit.”

You laughed, enjoying the lightness that seemed infectious between your partners. Steve was right, it really was not often that all of their collective guards were down like this. It felt...nice to be like this, like you could imagine you were all just old friends who had called each other up for a night of reminiscing.

As dysfunctional as your partners were, they really did make you feel much more comfortable than you would’ve thought possible.

You smiled into your drink at the thought, kicking it back just like the rest of the guys did as you let yourself fall into the wood of the bar and laugh along with their quips.

Steve quickly fell into a conversation with the three of you recounting a very elaborate story about his previous work in Miami which involved an illegally owned pet tiger and an anemic hit man, which obviously ended up being just as hilarious as it sounded. Javier had swiftly countered with a retelling of the time he had apprehended a narcotics suspect at a Woodstock festival in Texas, but had also accidentally stumbled upon a female-only evangelical cult that dealt most of the psychedelics in the state after one of the members asked him back to their tent.

By this time you practically had tears running down your face, laughing so much you feed almost all of your most recent drink to the floor as you moved to cover your mouth. The alcohol in combination with the incessant smiles you were receiving from your partners made you practically melt, so happy to be able to talk about sincerely anything other than work with them. You didn’t know you had missed friendship so much since you had been here.

Javier watched you intently the whole time, and it was not something you could easily forget as you ordered yet another drink. You couldn’t remember exactly what number this one was for you, but your newfound comfort between Steve and Javi emboldened you. You could feel the rest of your guards start to slip, being immediately replaced with a confidence you were unfamiliar with.

It was like Javi could read your mind, and he finally was able to catch your gaze as Steve started a conversation with a member of Search Bloc to his left. “I didn’t think you’d be able to put that much back if I’m honest.”

He dropped his eyes to the new glass in your hand, filled with shimmering liquid that caught the few lights in the bar and reflected it back in his eyes. You noticed he was leaning closer to you, so close you could catch just a bit of the whiskey that hung on his breath. An intrusive thought told you you wanted more. He still smelled just as good as he had on the street only last night, his hand firmly holding your wrist like he wanted to burn himself into you. You thought he might be looking at you now like he had then, but that thought was a little too hard for you to process right now.

Your body felt too warm, and you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or how your partner was looking at you or how close he was all of a sudden or all of the above. You just knew that before you could think, a devilish grin was spreading over your face as you leaned into your hand against the bar, looking up at him in a way that felt much too dangerous.

“Condescending much?”

He huffed out a laugh, breaking your stare to look at his hands on his own drink. “Not at all, I just pegged you as a lightweight.”

You feigned mock-offense, pointedly holding your hand to your braless chest as you opened your mouth in exaggerated shock. “Whatever could’ve given you that idea?”

You felt the way his eyes followed the movement of your hand to your breast. His gaze stayed there a moment too long and you felt yourself flush red. He seemed to mirror you as he rubbed at his neck, deepening in color.

“My own implicit bias, HR would say,” Javi replied gruffly, still wearing his trademark smirk when he looked at you again.

You felt your eyelids fall a little farther over your eyes from the alcohol, laughing breathily as the sparks in your lungs sizzled. You took another drink to quell the fire, but you knew something had shifted the moment the rest of the alcohol hit your throat.

You weren’t of your own mind anymore. You desperately wanted him to be closer to you, for what reason you didn’t know, but try as you might you suddenly couldn’t get the thought out of your head. Not when he was looking at you like...that.

You suddenly heard your name from an unfamiliar voice behind you, and you turned to find the owner with an incoordination that could only come from liquor.

“Mind if I buy you a drink?”

A member of Search Bloc stood, looking you up and down as you drank him in lazily, noticing immediately how attractive his smile was. You desperately tried to remember his name, knowing you must’ve met him at some point but completely blanking on when. Your brain seemed to be taking twice the amount of time to process things.

“Uh, yeah...yeah sure!” 

Your own voice sounded far away in your ears, much too slurred and you felt like you could hear Javier’s jaw pop next to you. A small part of you seemed to scream. You really were drunk. Fuck.

The Search Bloc member grinned wider, and his eyes shone black in a way that made you feel like he was reading a menu instead of looking at you. It was much more intense than you had originally thought. You shivered, suddenly finding everything to tilt as your vision swam. 

After a beat passed, he threw a look at your partner to your right. You realized Javi hadn’t gotten up.

You shot him a glance, taking in the way his face was set in a closed expression, so unlike how it had been moments earlier. Your shoulders tensed on instinct as you stared at his hand now balled in a fist.

The Search Bloc member...Diego, your brain finally supplied, began to shift his face into a glare directed towards Javi as more time stretched between you. You found yourself glancing helplessly between the two of them as the alcohol settled low in your belly, everything feeling like too much too fast for you to keep up.

“I think she’s had enough for tonight,” Javier grit out, finally breaking the silence. Your dazed eyes widened before you could think, staring back at him as he glared solidly at Diego. You opened your mouth to respond.

“You heard her, agent,” Diego retorted before any words left your mouth, “so I’d listen.”

The words hung in the air like a warning, and your much too drunk mind seemed to spin. Maybe this wasn't actually happening. If it was, you felt like you should be much more embarrassed than you currently were. Why was this happening again?

“Never been the best at that, cowboy.” Javi threw back the rest of his drink, and before you knew it his hand was on your wrist. “It’s late, I think it’s time to go home.”

He finally looked at you then, and you found that his eyes were just as black as Diego’s had been. But instead of feeling slightly terrified, your heart skipped as his gaze burned into you, telling instead of asking.

His grip was firm, and it didn’t take much for you to be falling into his hold as he rose from the bar.

The whole scene seemed to blur in your vision as you shifted to stand as well, colors and people moving too fast as you righted yourself on Javi’s arm.

“Next time, then,” you heard someone say, but it felt so far away. You looked up to see Javi throw a warning glare in the direction of the voice, eyes on fire as his other hand came up to steady you at the small of your back. You were so grateful for it as you swayed on your feet.

“Let’s go, princess,” Javi growled into your ear, guiding you towards the exit. His breath felt so good when he leaned down to your shoulder, hot and smelling so strongly of whiskey. You wanted more for the second time tonight. Heat pooled low where the alcohol sat in your stomach, and it curled deliciously as you fully leaned into his large frame.

He was so strong, you thought. Hefting you around the place just like he had in that alleyway those days ago. It might’ve made sense to you in that moment that Javier was always looking for excuses to touch you, but the alcohol was keeping any vaguely intelligent thoughts far away from you in that moment.

You barely registered his arm lifting up as he briefly waved to Steve and Carrillo, both looking to be in almost the same state you were in. Steve threw some finger guns back, sinking into the bar with a dopey grin.

You briefly hoped Connie wouldn’t be too worried.

The night air hit you like a chill as you stumbled out of the bar. Javi quickly righted your stance as you tripped on the curb with two big hands on your waist.

“Holy shit, you're so warm,” you breathed without thinking, trying to make your vision stay in one place to no avail.

His eyes flashed, and he moved to tuck you into his side, resigning his hand to the small of your back as you both walked in the direction of your shared building. You noticed the way his jaw was set tight as he held you to him, your strides shaky next to his long ones. He said nothing when you stumbled, gaze laser focused forward. You stared up at him the whole way home.

“Home sweet home,” he huffed, holding you still as you both walked up the stairs to your building.

“Already?” You pouted like you were a child, your brain still swimming. Javi sucked in a breath as you caught his gaze, a pleading look in your eyes the sober you was cringing hard at. Unfortunately for you, sober you was not the one in charge right now.

You fumbled with your keys as Javi steered you to your door, his hand on you feeling suddenly much heavier as you entered your own space. A space no one else but you had been in.

His hold left you as you flitted into your living room, and you glanced back at him standing awkwardly in your doorway as you turned on shaky legs. “You know, I think I might...have to...” your voice slurred together, trailing off between words as you tried to right your stance to no avail.

“Shit.”

Before you knew it, you were careening backwards toward your own floor, finally foiled by a shoe you had left on your rug from the night before. Ahead of your awaited fall that you were sure would hurt tremendously the morning after, you were encapsulated by warmth and hardness, holding you perfectly still in midair.

You opened your eyes, finding your hands fisted into the front of your partner’s shirt and his own arms crushing you to him like you would evaporate into thin air if he let you go. He held you close with a ferocity that mirrored how he gripped your wrist in the street, selfish and unrestrained and too tight, and it set you on fire. You were burning up, clinging to him as his stance shifted to let his leg curve between yours as he regained his own balance.

You knew logically he had moved from his previous position because he didn’t want you both to fall, but the new position made his thigh press against you in a way that scorched your lower belly deliciously, and you were sure an alarm was going off in your head. Fuck. You could feel you growing wet in your jeans as you realized how small you felt against him, how vulnerable you were. Fuck fuck fuck.

Achingly, you finally met his gaze, mouth open as the smell of whiskey and leather and something so uniquely him flooded your senses. His eyes were pitch black, glowing like embers as he eyed your lips. You realized you had dropped your gaze to mirror his look.

“Javier,” you whispered, so close to him and yet still too far. Everywhere he touched you burned, and you couldn’t get enough. This was dangerous. This was bad. This was-

“Fuck,” he growled, strangled in his throat as he ripped himself away from you, fast as lightning.

The loss of contact sent you reeling, suddenly feeling too cold and empty without him towering over your smaller frame.

“What-“ you blurted out, finding him all the way across the room, pressed against your door like he was scared you were going to bite him. Or maybe because he was scared he would do the same to you.

“It’s late, I’m sorry, I need to go,” he rambled, gaze becoming more erratic when it landed on your bitten lip. “I- can you- are you okay?”

You blinked at him, heat still simmering on your skin from where he had touched you just moments ago. He looked down at you desperately, looking like he wanted nothing more than to consume you. Why did that turn you on so fucking much?

“I...I think so,” you said softly, still staring at him. His eyes flitted to your shoulder, and you noticed your shirt had almost completely fallen down your arm, exposing the top of your breast.

“I should go,” he said quickly, but the last word caught in his throat. You hated how far away he was. What would happen if you closed the distance?

The thought entered your mind before you could stop it, and the idea of his large hand wrapping around your throat instead of your doorknob rocked you to your core. Your face heated as you tried not to press your thighs together.

“Okay.” You forced yourself to speak, but your voice felt miles away. “Thank you, Javier. For, um, taking me home.”

He swallowed. You watched how his Adam’s apple bobbed. He hadn’t moved. “Don’t mention it,” he all but growled, voice pitched impossibly low.

You let the silence stretch, heavy on you as you continued to stare at each other, daring each other to do...something. 

For not the first time since you had known him, you realized you would do anything to know what he was thinking in this moment.

“Goodnight, hermosa,” he finally whispered.

“Goodnight, Javi,” you whispered back.

It felt like a promise.

-

If you were less drunk, you would’ve heard the heavy hits against wood that rang out from your partner’s apartment moments after he had left your place.

If you were less drunk, you would’ve noticed the draft that was let in when your bedroom door opened hours later, bathing your passed out form in light from the hallway as a tall shadow fell over you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was WAY too excited for this chapter so I finished it today, definitely my favorite one I've written so far and I am so pumped to share it!! I really hope you all enjoy this one as much as I did.
> 
> Please let me know how you like the story so far, I am so looking forward to the next part!!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading and see y'all real soon!! <3


	10. Chapter 10

Javi didn’t sleep that night.

He couldn’t even bring himself to sit down, hours spent in the moonlight pacing back and forth across his living room listening to the loud droning of his own thoughts. How could he sleep when he couldn’t get the thought of you out of his head?

The moment he was behind the sanctity of his apartment door he slid the deadbolt hard in the lock, whether to keep you out or him in he wasn’t entirely sure. He still burned in all the places you touched him after he left, face still flaming as the sound of his name on your lips played over and over in his head like a record skip. Once he was totally and completely alone, the frustration that had been building inside him since he had first laid eyes on you tumbled lose and violent.

He slammed his foot against the wall right next to his door, giving it another swift kick before he laid his forehead against it. It would leave a resounding dent in the drywall, he was sure. Kiss the security deposit goodbye. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He was sweating, clammy all over and overheating like he had caught a fever that wouldn’t pass, and he had no idea what to do.

“Fuck.”

The word was whispered out as the agent threw a fist at the wall, shaking the drywall for the second time as he hit it hard. He savored the sharp sting that immediately slithered up his arm after his hand made impact. It reminded him how much he deserved it.

Oh, how he had fucked up. Big time. He had been just inches away from making a huge mistake, and it had been your whisper of his own name that had made reality crash down on the whiskey-induced fog that he had loved to live in for that half second that you were in his arms. Before then, he wanted to eat you, breathe you, taste you, consume you raw like you were the most delectable thing he had ever seen. You had been filling his thoughts for days, weeks, what felt like months since you had been assigned to him, and he knew you would be trouble from the moment his gaze had dragged up from your perfect little legs in that skirt to your sunny, perfect smile on your very first day.

He didn’t even know how right he was.

In that moment he had you crushed against him, it took the weathered self-control of a man on the fringe to not push you against your own apartment wall and have his way with you, pants tenting again just thinking about what he could’ve done had you not been so drunk, had you not looked up at him with eyes so fucking vulnerable it made him want to pinch himself until he bled, had you not said his name with the most sinful breathlessness it should have been illegal for you to say. 

If he had been a weaker man, he wouldn’t have thought twice. He could've done it so easily. He would’ve made you the mess that he wanted you to be. He would’ve filled you up with him and nothing else. His name would’ve been the only thought in your head. You would’ve learned your lesson not to be so damn mouthy all of the time.

He laughed to himself at the thought, anger boiling down to a simmer as the fog in his brain finally subsided. He didn’t even know who he was angry at anymore, himself or the fucked situation you were both in.

Javi sighed, pulling a thick hand over his face while he leaned into the wall. He focused on his breathing, remembering what Connie had said months ago about controlling his anger. Something about calming thoughts and deep breaths. Fuck if any of that would help him out of this. 

It was agonizingly silent in his apartment, the only sounds filling the space his own deep breaths as he slowly fell off the teetering edge he was standing on. As the anger faded, the self-loathing took no time settling deep in the agent’s psyche, dark thoughts pouring out of him as he stood from the wall.

He hadn’t even thought about the idea of you wanting him back. Why would you? Javi was at least a decade your senior, he was surly, grumpy, a pain in the ass, and a bastard, just to list a few of his so-called irredeemable qualities. He drank too much and he didn’t play by the rules, he was too aggressive and much too mean to almost everyone. He was untouchable and unreachable, all by his own design. Everyone else’s rules simply did not apply to him, and he had always wanted it that way.

You were something he didn’t plan for.

You were something he didn’t even let himself think about, until tonight. Until tonight, he had kept his thoughts about you tightly locked away in the innermost parts of his mind, save for the deep hours of night after work where he let the image of your lithe wrist and perfect ass in your damn too-tight jeans inspire his whiskey-drunk brain into selfish, totally inappropriate scenarios that he was sure would disgust you.

That was the thought that kept him up, no matter how he tried to rationalize and reframe his thoughts that night. He disgusted you. No doubt you wouldn’t even be able to look at him tomorrow after his transgression, and he wouldn’t blame you. He could've sworn he could still feel your small hands fisted against his chest, pushing him away. He had crossed a line, and he had wanted to do it. He enjoyed it. And that disgusted him most of all.

Javi didn’t hear another sound from your side of the building the rest of the night, letting the brutal quiet torment him like he knew he deserved. It was better this way, he thought as he filled another glass up with whiskey and shaking hands.

He didn’t know who he was convincing of that fact anymore.

-

The chill in the air that greeted him the following morning when he finally stepped out of his apartment building did little to wake him up from his sleepless night. 

Though the sweet persuasion of liquor had worn off hours ago, Javi’s mind still didn’t feel any more clear than it had last night. He had felt like a coward, purposefully waiting a full two hours after your workday started to throw on a fresh pair of jeans and button-up to make his way to the embassy. The less time he was in the same space as you, the better. After last night, he wasn’t sure he could trust himself around you anymore.

His brow stayed set in a permanent glare as he breezed into the embassy, strutting just a little bow-legged like the asshole he was past the swooning secretaries and receptionists. He didn’t bother, couldn’t even see past the shame that was settling hard on his shoulders the closer he got to his office.

His hands stayed solidly in his jean pockets to save them from nervously picking at his skin when he got to his desk. His usual air of frustration that followed him wherever he went worked well enough to mask the turmoil that was really ricocheting off the walls of his head, or at least he sure hoped it did. The dark shadows around his eyes told another story.

“Jav, gotta say I’m surprised to see you here, especially this early,” Steve called from his desk across from his partner. Javi turned, having hoped he wouldn’t have had to face Murphy either today. That was more just because he was annoying as fuck, especially hungover.

“Fuck off, Steve,” Javi breathed pointedly, “I’m not in the mood.”

He settled into his chair, rubbing at the crease between his temple as he leaned back. Steve just laughed, wincing a bit at the sound of his own voice echoing around the room.

“Yeah, I hate to admit that I’m in the same boat. Connie about bit my head off when I came home so late, drunk as all hell.”

Javi hummed, eyes still closed as he willed his headache to subside. He was barely listening as Steve rambled on, content to pretend he was completely alone in the embassy that was much too loud for his fragile state.

“We must’ve all overdid it pretty hard, when you two didn’t show up this morning I was sure we were gonna get our asses reamed by Noonan. I mean, you showing up on time is a rarity in general, so I wasn’t as worried about you as I was-“

A slick trail of dread started trickling down Javi’s back as Steve’s words settled on him like grains of sand, heavier and heavier as each moment passed.

“Murphy.”

“Peña?”

“Did you just say our partner never came in today?”

Steve rolled his eyes, not catching onto the monotone inflection that had seeped into Javi's voice. “Yeah, I just said that. I was the only one here this morning, we’re lucky Noonan didn’t grace us with her presence yet or we’d be in hot-“

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Javier shot up from his seat, anger thundering over his features as his heart rate ramped up. Steve’s eyes widened in shock at the sudden change in tone, fear etched in Javi’s brow. “Our partner never showed up to work after an undercover mission and you didn’t say a damn thing about it?”

Steve’s gaze turned incredulous, holding a coffee mug halfway up to his mouth. “Jav, as I said before, we were all fucked last night. I’m surprised half of us came in today.”

“Fuck,” Javi seethed, throwing on his leather jacket as he swiftly stormed out of the office, each step grinding into the shiny linoleum as secretaries’ heads looked towards him in alarm at his passing.

“Javi!” Steve called out to him, shifting up from his chair. His call fell on deaf ears, his partner already halfway down the street when the door of the embassy slammed shut with a resounding thud that echoed even after Javier’s sudden exit.

-

Javi saw nothing but blurs on the street as his feet flew back to your shared building, the only sound in his ears the quick beat of his heart that called to him like a warning. His mind was running so fast he couldn’t even distinguish what was in front of him, swinging his broad shoulders against passerby as he barreled towards your apartment with an urgency he had not felt since he had chased you down that street. Even then he had felt better than this. He would take a look at your sweet, disappointed, beautiful, teary-eyed face a million times over than what the fear that gripped his throat told him now.

He burst into the building he had exited what felt like only moments ago with a vengeance that felt primal to him, and he couldn’t even find it in himself to heed the sirens that were screaming at him in his mind. Warning him. Preparing him. For what, he didn’t know, but the thought alone sent him spiraling.

Thundering down the hall, Javi had to grind his feet into the floor to stop his feverish sprint to your apartment, having overshot your place by about five paces in his hurry. He swung around to face your door, immediately rapping his already bruising knuckles on the dark wood. He silently cursed himself for punching his wall like a damn hormonal teenager last night.

Your name fell out of his mouth, barely kept from a shout as he waited for an answer. When none came, he pounded on your door with a fist, fast and desperate.

“Partner? Kid? You in there?”

Javi hated how his voice sounded to his own ears, bordering on pleading as he continued to pound on your door incessantly. 

After more moments passed that felt like hours with no response, Javi stepped away from your door, steeling his expression. Without a second thought, he brought his foot down hard on your door, splitting it off the hinges in one powerful kick.

The adrenaline pumping through him made everything slightly blurred once Javier finally entered your apartment, and he almost slapped himself to focus as he took in your living space.

Clothes had been thrown about, a lampshade had been torn from the light that was still on by your couch, and a single chair was laying on its side. 

The information ran through Javier’s mind before he could process it, and he ripped his way through the disorder to where he thought your bedroom had to be.

He called your name again, a warning this time that twinged at his eyes as he said it, and his hand found the gun at his waistband when he finally turned the corner to your room.

Your bed, perfectly nestled into the wall, covered in blankets and sheets that had been thrown haphazardly, spilling onto the floor below. Your window fully open, morning breeze causing a draft that would’ve made you much too cold. Your closet was full of hangers with clothes torn off of them, and what few books you had from your shelf were strewn in front of Javier’s feet. His eyes caught on your government-issued firearm in the middle of the mess, a gun exactly like his laying there innocently, untouched and forgotten. Perfectly placed, like a note Javi and only Javi was meant to read.

His breathing was shallow, but he could still smell you everywhere with every breath he took. This whole place smelled like you and nothing else but you, and the sudden realization he had been dreading settled onto Javi like a bucket of ice down his shirt, soaking him down to his bleached-blue bones until there was no other thought in his mind.

The agent stared, eyes firmly placed on the lone gun in front of him as his hand stilled on his own, eyes turning glassy. He was terrified to move, willing something...anything to happen. Anything but what this had written. 

You were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the angst train!! Hope y'all liked hearing from Javi's POV, I thought I might shake it up this chapter for the sake of the narrative. Maybe might have some more if y'all like it ;)
> 
> Please let me know how you're liking the story so far, thank you to everyone who has been sticking with it!! I appreciate y'all so much <3
> 
> Thank you for reading, see y'all soon!! ;)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the new tags please!
> 
> CW: Descriptions of Violence, threat of non-con, captive reader

You woke slowly.

It was the kind of half-consciousness that you felt on a Sunday morning at home when you got to sleep in. You were not entirely awake but not still sleeping either, the world settling back on your shoulders piece by piece as wisps of memory came to you, unhurried and in no rush to enlighten you of your present reality. You wondered for a brief moment if your dad had made you pancakes this morning.

“Ella esta despierta.”

Your eyes finally cracked open, light creeping through shuttered windows to wash whatever room you were in in a dim green light, telling you little to nothing about the time of day. The feeling in your body came back to you slowly, everything settling bit by bit as you regained your sense of self.

You took in what you could and tried to remember what you couldn’t.

You were in a dingy room. Closed windows. Smells of gunpowder and something else...earthier. It was warm and muggy, coating you in sweat. One door to the left. You were sitting. There was a man in shadow to your right.

“Fuck,” you whispered, voice cracking from misuse as the feeling in your wrists burned up your arms all at once. Your arms were tied behind you to the back of the chair you were sitting in, and you could tell from how they dug into your wrists you had been out for a while. You flexed them uselessly against the restraints. You took a deep breath, focusing your groggy mind back to cataloguing everything you could in your attempts to quell your rising panic.

Okay. Last night, you were at the bar. You were still wearing the clothes you had worn then, which was as good of a sign as you could hope for in your current situation. You noted the new grime on your jeans and the now dirt-covered light blouse that fell over your bare shoulders and neck. You suddenly felt way too exposed. Who had been with you? Steve, Carrillo, Search Bloc...Javi...Javi was there. Javi had been, he had been with you. In the bar, in your apartment. The thought of him made tears prickle at the corner of your eyes involuntarily. That’s what was gonna make you cry right now? Really?

You got it together quickly. The man in the corner...you couldn’t see his face. Why was it taking you so long to form a coherent thought? 

“It took much longer to get you than I thought it would, hermosa.”

The familiar voice dragged over your ears, and you squinted into the shadowed part of the room where it came from. The man there. “You were constantly surrounded by those...partners of yours, they made it extremely difficult to get close to you,” he continued. “But everyone makes mistakes.”

Your brain swam, still trying to make sense of what this guy was saying to you. Everything felt way too slow and too fast at the same time as you tried to pay attention to every detail of the situation you were in. The more you could remember the better. 

In a swift motion, the man in the corner stepped forward. You hated yourself for flinching back slightly at his fast movement. In an instant he was only a few feet from you, but that was enough for what little light illuminating the room to fall onto him.

Your eyes widened, surprise coloring your expression too quickly for you to stop it. 

“Diego?”

The smile that stretched over his face at your whispered admittance was nothing short of demonic. It chilled you to the bone, but you stifled a shiver to save him the satisfaction.

You schooled your features quickly into a stony mask, setting your jaw hard as you took in the man before you. His hands were placed solidly behind his back, eyeing you up and down ravenously as he towered over you.

“You should’ve let me buy you that drink.”

Anger sparked in your veins like venom, fiercer than the dull ache that throbbed there.

“Funny, I don’t think that would’ve made much of a difference considering my current situation,” you spat. 

Diego chuckled lowly, pacing away from you. He was quiet. It made you even more uncomfortable than you thought possible given your circumstances. He looked coiled like a panther, ready to strike at the slightest hint of insubordinance. Even so, you couldn’t stand the silence that stretched between you any longer.

“So, how long you been a fucking traitor? Narcos pay that good nowadays to even get Search Bloc on their payroll?”

Diego stilled, his eyes flashing to you. You could tell he would bite.

“I’d watch your mouth, perra. Wouldn’t want to change your current situation, as you said.”

Burying your self-preservation instincts as far down as they could go below your ribs, you huffed out a short, humorless laugh. You smiled up at him, shifting your face so your hair didn’t hide the steel in your eyes. “I’m not afraid of you, traitor.”

You knew you had him then, and you braced for the blow you knew would come.

Before Diego could take one more step to make true on your egging, the only door in the small room opened, skittering across the ground with an unpleasant sound.

“Diego, we can take it from here.”

Your eyes shifted over to the newcomers so fast you were sure your head spun. Two men entered the room, one taller than the other and walking with an air like he owned the place.

As you scoured his face, you realized he practically did. You were staring into the dark sunglasses of none other than Pablo Escobar’s right hand man.

Faster than you could blink, you squared your shoulders from the hunched in position you had adopted to take Diego’s blow that had never come. You put on your mask of indifferent good humor, just as you had before.

“Gus, what an honor. Really wouldn’t have ever dreamed I would be important enough to be graced with your presence,” you said with forced lightness. If you were going to die, you weren’t going to go without causing at least some mild irritation for them. But if you were perfectly honest, the swimming going on in your head that you now attributed mostly to the alcohol still in your system kept you from fully processing the dire situation you were in. For that, you were grateful. And maybe just slightly crazy.

Gustavo just smiled, hands in his pockets as Diego nodded at him submissively. He fell behind him as his boss took up the space in the room in front of you. You inwardly preened at seeing that bastard scared stiff by someone, even if it was Gustavo Gaviria. You were willing to take whatever joy you could get right now. Plus, the entitled fucker deserved it.

“Normally, I wouldn’t. Unfortunately for you, you’ve caused a bit more trouble than I can overlook, gringa,” the narco finally said. “Hence why you’re here.”

“Yes, yes, I can imagine kidnapping an American Federal Bureau of Investigation Special Agent must be doing wonders for business,” you sneered, smile fiercely painted over your face. You had been trained for this, but you could still feel the slight tremble in your bound hands behind you.

That earned you a wider grin from Gustavo, finally placing his sunglasses in his shirt pocket. He looked down at your seated position squarely, obviously enjoying his position above you as he smirked. You wished for not the first time you were wearing a god damn bra as his gaze dipped. He looked just like he did in his file back at the embassy- suave, collected, and rugged- the perfect foil to Escobar’s unpredictable chaos.

“What, did I cause another one of Pablito’s temper tantrums? They’ve been rather frequent these days, huh? Must be making you sweat.” Oh, you knew you were running your mouth, but now, there was no stopping you. The danger that lit your brain up with warning bells felt dull under the fire in your veins. You didn’t even stop to think as the words tumbled out of your mouth, pure venom coloring your eyes. “Especially if you’re here, stuck cleaning up all of his messes as usual. Is that why you’ve been fraternizing with Cali? About to call it quits on your hermano?”

The blow you had been waiting for finally hit, and it rocked you hard. It was so fast you didn't even have time to brace yourself for it, the moment it happened synonymous with the moment the pain bloomed across your cheek.

You gasped, blood pooling into your mouth with a sickly metallic taste as your hair feel into your face from the force of the blow. You spit on instinct, coloring the cement floor red with your blood. You stared wildly at the ground from where he had hit you clean across the face, mind racing to catch up with the adrenaline that coursed through you like poison.

“You’re too feisty for your own good, gringa. I’d like that if you weren't a DEA brat,” you heard Gustavo say above you, cool and collected as ever.

In a flash your chin was in his hand, dragging you up to meet his gaze as he crouched in front of you. Even with him crouching down you were at his eye level, gaze locked with yours as he forcibly filled your view. You could smell his breath on your cheek, reeking of cigarettes and making your nose wrinkle in disgust at how close he suddenly was to you. He looked at you solidly, and his grip left no room to refuse his touch. Your nostrils flared at him getting into your space, panic leaking into your thoughts as he touched you. Fuck you wanted to rip this guy a new one.

“Behave yourself, or I’ll have to teach you a lesson you won’t like. We haven’t had a nice girl like you here in a long time,” he said lowly, dark eyes boring into yours with the thinly-veiled threat as he glanced over you maliciously, “I still can't believe they’d let someone so delicious in the FBI. You’re a danger to yourself the way you flaunt yourself around. You’re much overdue for someone to show you your place, gringa.”

Your throat closed around itself, and you hated the shiver that ran up your spine before you could stop it. He never stopped looking at you, savoring your physical reaction to him like it was something sweet. The promise of violence flashed in his eyes, and you knew it wasn’t just a threat anymore. The anger and panic you had been holding tightly locked within you overflowed like water in a broken bucket. 

“I won’t be intimidated by you, Gaviria. What the fuck are you going to do with a United States Federal Officer unless you have a death wish you sadistic fuck?”

Gustavo’s lips curled into a dark smile, all his teeth showing as his hold on you tightened, hard enough to bruise. You didn't dare break his stare, grappling for power you knew you didn’t have. 

He shrugged simply. “Some things are worth the risk.”

Quick as he had come, the narco released you from his grip and rose to his feet, hovering over you once again as his hands found his pockets. His gaze was considering, thoughtful and full of questions you knew he had to be burning to ask. You could do nothing but glare up at him with all you had, wishing your hands were free so you could dig your nails into his fucking eyes.

“Hasta la próxima, hermosa,” he said, turning on his heel to the door as the two other men followed his movement. 

You tore your gaze from his eyes to his retreating form, panic once again sharpening the words at your throat. 

“What do you want from me?”

Gustavo threw a glance over his shoulder as he stopped outside the door, taking in your wild and undone appearance as he paused. You were sure you looked positively feral, like a fucking caged animal waiting to be slaughtered.

“For now, nothing.”

You stared at him.

“Tomorrow? Who knows,” he continued simply, mouth quirking into a knowing smirk. “Buenas noches.”

The door skittered shut just as it did before, leaving you in silence and completely alone in a room in you didn’t even fucking know where. You didn't even know why you were here. You didn't know anything. You choked on a sob the second the door was shut, letting the despair you had been holding back the entire time wash over you in waves.

Tears ran hot and heavy down your cheeks, falling in warm drops on your dirty jeans as you cried. Your whole body shook, the chair making soft noises that echoed against the walls to remind you how truly alone you were.

Fuck. You wished you could go back to last night. Your eyes scrunched up at the thought, willing yourself not to think about things that were impossible. Of who you wish could be here. Who you would give anything to see again.

In that moment, you would’ve burned the whole world over just to see him.

You knew in your heart this wasn’t hopeless. You had been trained for far worse. But as you cried to yourself tied to a fucking chair in some desolate narco building with no way to call for help, you let yourself truly feel the pain of the situation, if only so as to not distract you again the next time you were honored with the presence of one Gustavo Gaviria.

Kidnapped or not, you were going to get through this. Rationally you knew they would’ve killed you by now if they wanted to get rid of you, and you had a few tricks up your sleeve. As long as they still needed something from you, you had cards to play. You just wished you knew what the fuck that was.

As the sobs subsided, you raised your head to the single window in the room, dim light still seeping through the shutters. This was day one.

You would see day two. And the next. And whatever was after that. Because you knew who the fuck you were.

But the thought that kept you warm as you finally let sleep overtake you again was of who you knew was looking for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter, it's starting to get ~real gritty~ so buckle your seat belts friends. Thank you so much to those of you who have left comments and encouraged me with this story! Y'all are rockstars!!
> 
> Please let me know what you think of the story so far, and I can't wait to see y'all next week! Thank you for reading!! <3


	12. Chapter 12

“Javi.”

“Jav.”

“Javi!”

Agent Javier Peña opened a bleary eye, thoughts scrambling to catch up as consciousness seeped in around his vision. Everything seemed to swim in and out of focus as he cleared the sleep from his eyes. He raised his head to see a stern looking DEA agent in front of him, glowering down in his direction with an expression that was wholly unreadable. 

“Steve,” he finally responded, large hand finding the back of his neck to press his fingers into the ache that had settled there. “Fuck, man. What do you want?”

Javier’s partner continued to look down at him incredulously, taking in the state of disarray the man sitting in front of him was in. His desk was a mess of papers, documents, files, mug shots, and random post-its scattered everywhere, with a half-drunk glass of whiskey serving as the most god awful paperweight Steve had ever seen. Unfortunately for Javi, he didn’t seem to look much better than his desk. Concern seeped into the corners of his expression as the silence stretched out, thinking of something to say to his partner that looked half a step from death’s door.

“You’ve been here for two days, Jav. Have you even been home?”

Javier scoffed, still leaning over the mess of papers that marred his desk as he reached a hand to the precariously placed whiskey. “Fuck do you care for?”

Steve rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face pointedly. “You're never going to find her if you're dead, man.”

Javi’s eyes flashed, the implication of who Steve was talking about clear in the dark of the empty embassy office. Heat filled his frozen veins before he could stop it, and he moved to rise as his face contorted into a snarl.

“You know what I mean. What do you think she would say if she saw you running yourself into the ground, huh?”

Steve paused, holding his breath. If he was going to get socked in the face by his own partner, it would’ve been after he said that. He waited, watching Javi’s expression intently. A million emotions could’ve flashed over his face in that second, and Steve couldn’t decipher a single one. He sighed as his partner stayed still in his chair, staring somewhere he couldn’t see.

“It’s been 48 hours. You need to sleep, Jav.” Steve couldn’t help the concern that dripped from his suggestion once he broke the silence that had settled like dust around them. He hoped his partner could hear it. “Please. You can stay with Connie and I for a while, I promise it’s not a-“

“No, fuck no. I mean, thanks, I guess, but no,” Javi huffed out a laugh. It felt too bitter in his mouth, but he didn’t know if that was just the whiskey. His vision suddenly warbled, not for the first time that day. He opened his mouth like he couldn’t find the words, instead fixing his gaze away from his partner as he clenched and unclenched his fists. The silence stretched on.

“Please, just go home. I’m telling you, it’s better if you do,” Steve sighed, shoulders feeling heavier and heavier as he begged his partner to look up at him. “The offer’s still open, so. If you need it.”

Javi didn’t move. He could feel the silence between them hit like grains of sand, slow and seemingly never-ending. He wanted to say something. He couldn’t. He knew the minute he opened his mouth, he wouldn't be able to control what came out anymore. There wasn’t time to break down now.

The silence shifted, and Steve’s jaw finally ticked. He set his expression quickly, ripping his gaze away from his partner’s crestfallen expression. His words were steely when they finally came to him. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Javi heard his footsteps fall away from him, hesitant at first like he might turn back around and really give him a piece of his mind, but strong by the time the embassy door clicked shut behind him. He didn't know if a bigger part of him had wanted him to come back.

He was so fucking weak. You had been missing for two days and he had fallen apart like he hadn’t had in years. He had forgotten what it had felt like.

The past 48 hours had been spent poring over documents and files, analyzing every crumb of evidence he could scrape off your apartment floor as he went through hundreds of pages of narco intel. Everything seemed to lead to a dead end. Escobar had people everywhere, from literal children with walkie talkies on the streets of Bogota to sicarios with body counts a mile high that the embassy didn’t even know the real names of. People in Colombia went missing every day, sure. That was a part of the business. But a US Federal Agent? There was no fucking way.

Javi didn’t even want to consider the implication of what your kidnapping could mean, completely in the throes of guilt at his own role in your disappearance. He couldn’t stop replaying the last night you were seen over and over again. Everything felt like a mistake, a piece he had missed. Leaving you, seeing you, talking to you, being near you. Your face flashed in his mind too many times than he could count, followed by the even worse omission of the sound of your voice saying his name when you had been just breaths away from him. It haunted him like no ghost ever could, settled deep in his bones like you would never leave. How had he gotten so close?

He knew that this was an act of war with the DEA, he was sure of it. They had never taken this serious of action against any agency connected with the embassy, at least not intentionally. Police and agents died every day, either in the crossfire of narco bullets or from their own corruption. A kidnapping, however, could not be so easily explained away.

“What could they have even wanted from her?” Javi found himself whispering darkly to no one as he held his head in his hands, bloodshot eyes tracing the outline of his desk as he let his thoughts swirl around him like a storm. How did any of this make sense?

He tried going over the cartel’s movements over the past month yet again, sure he had the files memorized by now. They had noted that the biggest change was Escobar’s involvement in Cali lead by Gustavo. More coke, more guns. It all seemed prime for a merge. But they had known that for weeks. You weren’t the only one with that information.

If this was a hostage situation, you would be useless for a cross-cartel merge. No amount of American-sanctioned protection could change Escobar’s fate if he wanted to truly control all of Colombia. It just made shit a whole lot fucking messier for everyone inside of it.

No matter how Javier could spin it, it still felt like he was reaching dead end after dead end. As much as he hated to admit it, Steve was right. Before he had passed out on his desk his last desperate thought had been to visit every narco-connected address and start kicking doors down indiscriminately, throwing anyone in a US cell who got in his way.

He chuckled, thinking about how reckless he had become. When did that happen? Steve would say it had never stopped, but Javi knew differently.  
The thoughts consumed him as he rose from his desk, back cracking as he stretched his tired bones. He had tried not to think about you in that way after the reality of the situation had fully set in, only considering the objective facts as he searched for you. You were his and Steve’s partner, of course his every waking moment would be consumed by finding you. No one batted an eye when he worked overtime, never leaving his desk for hours at a time as he and Steve worked theories and intel together over and over. But the difference was, Steve knew how to preserve his energy. Javi hated to admit it, but he tended to be right more often than he was wrong.

No matter what, he still couldn’t bear to think of where you were now, what was happening to you. It practically drove him insane. As a man ruled by oftentimes emotion alone, it pained every fiber of his being to stamp down his feelings about you as he searched. He had no idea why, but you were important. You were his partner, but you also didn't deserve any of this. He knew you would tell him different, but he sincerely knew you had no idea what you were getting into when you got here. And that meant your kidnapping was on him.

The early morning air had a much-needed sobering affect on the agent as he stepped out from the embassy, eyes scouring over the thinning Colombian nightlife as people passed him by with little regard. He pulled a cigarette out from the pack in his shirt pocket, wasting no time in lighting it under the safety of his curved palm. Breathing deeply, he leaned against the wall of the embassy, exhaling as he stood.

He was a wreck, and for the life of him, he truly didn’t know why. The guilt was an easy answer, one that came to him when he thought of where you could be and how he had let this happen. It was an old and true feeling, one he was used to dusting off in the corner of his mind when he needed to feel sorry for himself on dawns like this he was alone and burning with shame. But he knew how that felt, and it wasn’t this. This was different. This was worse. And he was afraid to name it.

The cigarette served as a decent distraction for him as he mulled over his thoughts, his attention wearing thin as rays of sun began to peak out along the building-clad horizon. He knew he needed to sleep. Steve was right when he said he wouldn’t be able to find you like this. He was about as useful as a wet fucking mop right now.

Running his heel over the butt of his cigarette, the agent moved to push himself over the embassy steps to go through the same files for the second time that day.

“Javier?”

His name rang out over the rushing of cars from the street, hitting him like a delay on an old TV program. He turned, searching for the voice before he saw her, eyes lighting with dazed recognition as they fell on the young woman in front of him.

“Gabriela?” Javi’s brow furrowed as he took in her expectant face, looking up at him as he froze on the half step he was on. “What are you doing here?”

“A client, he’s, um, on this block,” she replied, face slightly covered by her long hair. He would’ve laughed at how sheepish she was being if he hadn’t just been on now day three of no sleep. 

“Right,” Javi huffed instead, turning back to the door, “I’ll see you around. Now’s not really a good time for me.”

“Wait! I...I need to tell you something,” he heard the prostitute stammer from behind him. He sighed deeply as he turned to her.

“Gabriela, last time you told me that I ended up harboring a fugitive. A fugitive who sold me out. I really don’t have the time. I’ll call you when I need you,” he bit out, eyes shut tight as he willed a headache to subside.

“I already told you I was sorry about that,” Gabriela scoffed, irritation marring her features. “Listen, this is important. I promise. I owe you one.”

The DEA agent finally looked at her squarely, wishing he hadn’t finished his cigarette so soon because he was sure he was going to need another one after this conversation was done. “Make it quick. I’ve got a lot of shit going on right now.” An image of you flashed in his mind’s eye as he replied, the guilt washing over him in fresh waves again as he looked at Gabriela, the image unfocused around the edges. He could feel his jaw tick in frustration. “Don’t waste my fucking time.”

“Siempre has sido tan jodidamente grosero, ¿sabes ese idiota?” Gabriela swore under her breath. “Fine. I have information for you about Escobar.”

“What about him?”

Gabriela stepped closer, close enough that Javi could smell her perfume. She smelled like she always did. It made his nose wrinkle as he tried not to think about where he remembered it from.

“Well, it’s actually about Gustavo,” she stammered, voice significantly lowered the closer she came to the agent. “I...I’ve been seeing one of his sicarios.”

Javi’s eyes narrowed, mouth quirking in a sneer as Gabriela glanced around nervously. “Not anyone important, I swear, or I would’ve told you sooner. I didn’t even know who he was, I rarely do. But...I, well, he called me to where he was...working, two nights ago. It was outside the city, a real shithole if you ask me, which I thought was weird-“

“Get to the fucking point, Gabby.”

Gabriela’s eyes flashed, mouth pursing as she glared at him. “When I left, I saw Gustavo. The Gustavo, I knew it was him from the posters and the news programs.”

Javi’s eyebrows knit together, thoughts scrambling as the weight of what the prostitute was telling him settled. “You're sure it was him? Gustavo Gaviria? You swear?”

“On my mother, Javi. I’ve never given you wrong information, have I?”

He stared at her then, and she met his gaze just as strongly as he met hers. A moment passed before Javier responded. 

“No. You’ve never lied to me,” the agent finally responded. “Where is he?”

“I can give you the address, but I need to tell you something else.”

Javier’s mind was already running a mile a minute, his gaze shifting to the lightening horizon as he began making plans for how soon he could get out of Medellin. He needed to call Carrillo, they needed Search Bloc, everyone. If they knew where Gustavo was holed up, they could dig up something good enough for Noonan and a warrant and finally get that fucking bastard and stop the merge before it ever happened. Maybe. It was a hard maybe, but it still breathed life into Javi he had desperately needed.

“What? What else is there?” He said impatiently, running a thick hand through his hair as the adrenaline overtook him. He wanted nothing more than to start running, his heart thundering as the pieces fell together in his mind.

“He had a girl with him.”

Javier Peña’s vision cracked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what it is about a man on the brink of falling apart, but that shit is HAWT. I hope you all enjoyed a dose of Javi for this early chapter!! We'll be catching up with Reader real soon ;)
> 
> Please let me know what you think of the story so far, and thank you so much for reading!! Your comments really have given this story so much life and I can't thank y'all enough <3
> 
> (PS translation for Gabriela's comment: "Siempre has sido tan jodidamente grosero, ¿sabes ese idiota?" = "You've always been so fucking rude, you know that asshole?")


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big ol' TW for this one! Same as the last, but please be advised and mind the new tags.
> 
> TW: Threatened non-con, physical violence, non-consensual manhandling/touching
> 
> No actual non-con in this chapter, but please still be wary. We've crossed into ~dark~ territory partners, so I will be tagging for the non-con elements just to be safe instead of sorry.

It had been a day. Maybe two. It honestly could’ve been three. 

It was hard to tell what you could trust and what you couldn’t, even when it came to your own mind. In hostage training, the most important thing that they drill into your mind at Quantico is to hold on to any concrete thing you can and never let go of it for the duration of your time with the enemy. Preferably, that’s time. If you have a window, count the times the sun goes down and comes back up to know how many days you’re there. If you don’t, try to recognize a pattern in how many times you’re visited, how many times your captors give you food or water. Memorize the routine, that’s where you can find the cracks. It’s important to stay alert because you never know when your golden opportunity will arise.

But until then, hold on to something. Anything. 

But these fuckers weren’t just any stupid kidnappers looking for a few band’s ransom. That you could handle. These were narcos. There was no routine. And there were no cracks. 

You had chosen a pill bug to hold on to in the absence of anything substantial to rely on for the sake of your sanity. You watched as it made its way across the room, humbly and slowly. A pilgrimage from one wall to the other. Ceaseless and honest in its intent. It took only what you could assume as hours for it to move just a few feet. 

You weren’t visited for a long time after you had first met Gustavo. As you stared at your lonely little pill bug, you tried to focus your thoughts on what your kidnapping meant, and what they could possibly want from you. Your training had also taught you not to dwell on things that weren’t imperative to your survival. For the most part, you did that.

As you counted the little legs on the pill bug as he begun to crawl over a particularly treacherous clump of dirt in the crease of the wall, you thought about Gustavo. Just his presence here meant something. As an FBI Agent, having you here was an act of war with the embassy, so you soon realized you shouldn’t have been so shocked to have met with him. Of course he would have a personal interest in you. You were unfortunately too valuable not to.

The thought made your skin crawl, still sending shivers up your spine from when he had invaded your space. Sure, your mouth had always had a mind of its own, but you were starting to get the idea that maybe that wasn’t the best trait to amplify in this scenario.

But that thought again brought you back to the much larger question you were still grappling with. Why were you here?

They had left you for a long period of time by yourself. There had only been one time when some nameless sicario had entered, untying you wordlessly and shoving a plate of stale bread at you. He had watched you eat the entire time. You had tried to make conversation, but even your intel-fishing tactics had been delayed from the exhaustion. You just couldn’t seem to get your brain to work correctly, and the sicario had replied with nothing but dead eyes. Figures.

When you were done, he left silently, tying you up once again all the same. You wished for the life of you you knew when that had been.

Still, the knowledge that they were feeding you meant they had some kind of plan. What that was exactly, you only had speculations about. 

But Gustavo. It had to be Cali. What else could it be? They were either using you as a shield or an informant, but there were so many other agents that knew leagues more than you did. You had only been on Colombian soil for a month for fuck’s sake. The only thing you could chalk it up to was that they must be much stupider than you gave them credit for.

As the thoughts rolled around in your head, you heard them echo as they clinked together in the emptiness. The fog from before had not yet lifted, and you almost enjoyed having it around. The harder it was to process the easier it was not to think about where you wished you could be.

You could still feel where he had touched you that night, soft like a friend and hard like a lover.

You hated how much it comforted you to think about.

You wondered what he was doing right now, what he was thinking. Was he pacing at his desk, tired and alone as the whiskey bottle got emptier and emptier? Or was he holed up on Steve’s old couch, sleepless and quiet as the sun was going down? Was he looking out at the sun or the moon, wondering where you were too? Wondering if you were seeing the same sunset or sunrise? Thinking to himself that this sky might be the only thing you’d ever share?

The tears welled in your eyes before you could stop them, but they wouldn’t spill. You rarely cried, but you had more times in the past month than you had in years. You laughed to yourself when you thought of it becoming a habit. If Javi were here, you’d joke about his correlation with making girls cry. You hoped he would laugh. Even if he didn’t, you would still smile up at him all the same. 

You smiled then, softly to yourself as you looked back to the pill bug. It was still struggling over the dirt, caught in a patch of stray dust as it crawled. You suddenly wished more than anything you could scoop it up out of the muck to get to its place across the floor to the other side of the room.

The same metallic scratch of the door against the concrete rang out in the room, scattering your thoughts. If you weren’t tied to a fucking chair you would’ve shot up a mile into the ceiling.

Sauntering in, Gustavo Gaviria swept his dark eyes over the room, jaw clicking back and forth in his mouth like he was chewing on something. Two sicarios flanked him just like before, silent and nondescript as Gustavo took up the majority of the space in the room. Once he stood before you, he kept his hands solidly in his pockets, leaning back as he took you in.

You sat stiffly, meeting his gaze frostily. As tired as you were, you knew he didn’t need to know that. You hoped he didn’t pick up on the unhinged way your eyes bit into him. Or maybe you did.

“Hola, chica. Miss me?”

“You wish, huh?” You hated the way your voice caught in your throat from so much misuse, but your gaze never wavered. “I wouldn’t have been able to tell with the whole 'hard to get' angle you're pulling. Tell me, how many days has it been since you last tried to win me over?”

Gustavo smiled with all of his teeth when he looked down at you, and you truly hated it. He was predatory in every sense of the word.

“You're smart. Much smarter than any of the other DEA bastards we’ve had in here. You know I can’t tell you that though, hermosa,” he drawled. It was like he was enjoying this.

“What a surprise,” you huffed, bitterness audible in the funny way your voice cracked. “Can’t imagine now would be the time when you're finally gonna reveal your evil plot to explain my stay here, right?”

Gustavo shrugged. “Well, I actually do need something from you today.”

“Great. Please, let my secretary know and I’ll be right on it first thing in the morning. As you can see, I’m swamped with backlogged intel that needs to be processed. I’ve been very busy in here, cataloguing what your sicarios so graciously tell me.”

“Funny. But I don’t think they’ll be much help to you for this,” the man before you replied, never missing a beat. “Leave us.”

He motioned to the sicarios without his stare breaking yours, and the two men behind him left swiftly with a nod. 

Now was your cue to start to sweat.

“What, no show? I thought that was your thing,” you breathed out, feeling starting to shoot back up your bruised wrists from adrenaline alone, raw from chafing against your restraints. 

“Not for this, no. Can’t have any loose ends, you know how information gets out,” he chuckled, taking another step closer to you. He bent down on his knees just as he had before, bringing your gaze eye level with his. He wasn’t more than a breath away from you now, the bead of sweat dripping from your forehead as visible to him as the sun in the sky. Fuck, you were nervous. Fuck fuck fuck.

“A pity,” you said, proud that the waver didn’t reach your voice.

Gustavo still smiled at you, dead eyes searching for something in your wild ones. He was so in control.

“Tell me what you know about Cali.”

You balked at him, the smell of cigarettes on your face.

“Cali? You want to know DEA intel on Cali? Why-“

“Shut the fuck up and tell me what you know. I have no hesitations on marking the other side of that pretty face of yours.”

His voice never raised an octave when he spoke, cool and calm as if he was talking about the weather. You swallowed.

“All we know is Escobar has been sending you personally to Cali multiple times within the past few months. You’ve upped cocaine exportation and acquired more firearms in the last quarter than ever in the history of the Medellin cartel. This has been a cause for concern at the embassy, as you can imagine,” you finished, brow set in defiance. “But you already know all of that.”

Gustavo swiped at his lower lip with his thumb, calloused and big. Hands that have killed many, many people. The thought made you want to catapult yourself out the useless green window without abandon. 

“You're right. But I want to know why you cockroaches think that is.”

Confusion overtook your features before you could stop it.

“You're obviously poised for a merge. Cali and Medellin could never survive when Escobar is pushing to get this much bigger. You're his best negotiator, it makes sense that you would be sent to finalize the details with Cali to become partners. Escobar knows he can’t keep up with the bloodshed he’s causing, he’s one terrorist attack away from getting a permanent FBI presence in Bogota,” you laughed. “And I’m not talking about me.” 

Gustavo took a moment to consider you, finally leaning back on his heels.

“You know, before I met you I thought all DEA were stupid gringos. I still do, of course, but you’ve made me change my tune,” he smirked. Your spine stood perfectly straight as he regarded you appraisingly. “You're not all stupid, no. Just mostly.”

“Please enlighten me, then.” The frustration was clear in your voice, the exhaustion clawing up from your throat. “I’m going to be no use to you if I don’t know what games you're trying to play with me, Gus.”

The narco scratched at the scruff on his chin, boring into you with eyes like the devil. He was wholly unreadable to you.

“That’s all I need to hear from you today, hermosa. But I still need something from you, so please play along,” he deadpanned.

Before you could react, Gustavo reached for your dirty blouse and ripped half off it clean off you, exposing your midsection and the waist of your jeans. 

“Don’t fucking touch me-“

“Shh, don’t worry, chica. You’ve been good today,” he rasped, grasping the fabric in his hand before balling it up in his fist. “I just need you to put on a show for me.”

“Go fuck yourself, you slimy cun-“

Adrenaline shot into you like it never had before, and the string of angry expletives you had stored away just for this moment were cut short when your own shirt was shoved into your mouth. You choked on it, effectively silencing you as you felt tears prickle in your eyes. You shivered at the cold on your abdomen, suddenly so much more exposed than you already were. Your breasts heaved with anger, peaking under the torn fabric as you tried to control your breathing against the gag.

Gustavo’s head tilted as you struggled, life never sparking behind his dead gaze. “Aww, poor gringa. You look like such a mess,” he cooed, his large hand finding your face. He pressed into the bruise he had left there, tears pooling in your eyes before you could stop them as his touch stung like hell. You weren’t going to let yourself cry in front of this monster. 

“You're even prettier when you shut up,” he whispered darkly to you, hand moving down to the naked curve of your neck. He gripped it, causing your breath to come even more ragged between his calloused hand and the gag. Your heart beat even faster than you thought possible as fear whipped through your mind, snagging at all the dark corners in your brain. 

He sighed, hold never loosening. “It’s a pity you’ve been behaving so well. I really wish I could make this real instead of pretend,” he said almost sadly, and if you weren’t being choked by his hand and your fear you would’ve tried to laugh. “But Pablo’s right, kidnapping a federal agent is enough. I don’t get to do the fun stuff unless you deserve it, whatever.”

The pure insanity of this man was laid bare to you, and you would’ve enjoyed it more if unconsciousness wasn’t creeping around your vision as he held you. Your whole view was taken over by him, hunched over you now as he breathed onto you with his hand still wrapped around your throat. You thrashed harder as unconsciousness took you, but before darkness swept over you his hand loosened, only slightly.

The familiar rake of the door echoed against the walls of the tiny room, and you barely registered the two sicarios that had reentered. 

Quick Spanish echoed in your ears, too quick and too groggy for you to translate as they jumbled in your foggy brain. Gustavo’s hand finally left your neck, and your head fell to the side from the lack of support.

In an instant, his hands were on you again, pulling at your shirt just so but not taking it off. You felt like a doll, too oversized for this chair and too small for his hands. Your vision swam in and out of blackness, the fight that had come to you before you had almost passed out gone, like your reserves to bite back were empty now. 

A camera shutter rang out against the mutters from the three men, one and then two. You registered them slowly, the thought coming to you like molasses spread on toast. They were taking pictures of you.

Your vision drifted again, throat tight as you felt the same hands on your waist, your hips. You lunged at him again on instinct, before being harshly pressed back into the chair.

“The sooner we get this over with the sooner we leave you alone, la puta.”

Panic shot through you again, weaker now but panic all the same as you felt your jeans being pulled from your legs with no more tenderness than sandpaper.

Was this actually happening?

You had been home just a few hours ago.

Camera shutters clicking fill the room again, quick and bleeding in the stifling walls.

“Por el amor de Dios, busca perra.”

His hand was on your chin again, holding your head up as you heard a camera go off again. You were being posed. 

He dropped you just as quickly as he had taken you into his hand, and you head fell back to the side grateful to be left untouched.

“You did well, hermosa. You have a face for the camera.”

The door scratched again, open and close. You opened your eyes to find the concrete floor staring back at you, silent as the echoes died.

Alone.

The pill bug had finally reached the other wall.

You couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew that was a moment! Yeah Gustavo's a bitch, all my homies hate Gustavo. Fuck that guy, am I right?
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! It was tricky to write, but I promise our gal Reader is gonna get out of this one. Gustavo will have his reckoning ;)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and please let me know how you like the story!! <3


	14. Chapter 14

The dull roar of the embassy was different today, echoing off the marble walls of the foyer with an extra cut of anxiety. It sent Javier on edge immediately when his foot fell over the threshold, hackles raised as a spark lit in the air.

His eyes scanned the embassy as he made his way to his desk, never catching the nervous glances that seemed to be abundant among the secretaries and agents alike.

Javi shouldn’t really be that surprised with the ominous feeling that laid over the office today, everything had been considerably placed on high alert in and around the embassy since you had gone missing. By now it had been four days since you had last been seen, and as each new day came the energy in the air cracked even more than the day before. Like a lightning storm, the air felt heavy before thunder struck, dark and waiting. It was slowly suffocating him, gripping in along the edges of his neck and creeping to cover his eyes as he stared unseeingly at his ceiling.

Steve had finally convinced him to go home after he had gotten his intel on Gustavo from Gabriella, but only because they had actually made real progress on locating you. He had spent the entirety of the day before strategizing with Carrillo and Steve on where exactly it was they could be keeping you. Pinpointing your location hadn’t been easy, and it still was within a few miles of buffer, but they were getting close. What continued to keep Javi up at night, however, was the resounding question of why you had been taken.

He wasn’t a stupid man, he knew he was in no state to answer that question now. How could he, when all he could think about was you and where you were?

Time seemed to melt away when he was home, at the office, on the street. It was different than anything else he had felt before, the panic that lit in his chest and dulled in horrible waves like a terrible feeling he couldn’t name. Javier was reminded of when his mother was in the hospital many years ago, battling a later stage of cancer that had left her bedridden for months. The doctors had said she would have weeks, days, but...she kept fighting. 

Javi never knew when the day would be that she would leave. No one has a schedule for that, not even doctors can predict everything. Every day he would have to leave her side was one filled with fear. When he dreamed, he dreamed he would miss it. That she would be alone, by herself. Looking at the window and wondering where he was, thinking about why he wasn’t there. Comforted only by the sleepy rays of sun that shone through the leaves of the beech tree outside her room, slow as they moved the light around her bed when the time finally came.

Javi hadn’t thought about her in a long time. But losing you felt so strongly similar, he couldn’t shake it off. The guilt that roiled in his gut was like a welcome home, one he could simmer and broil in as he paced and paced and never stopped pacing.

The shiver that raced up his spine jolted him from his rumination, and he wished he could get his thoughts in order as he came up to his desk. When he wasn’t thinking about fifty things at once, he was on autopilot, sipping coffee with a glazed over expression as he stared at nothing. It creeped the receptionists out to no end. He was sure his haggard appearance didn’t help with that either.

“Steve,” he greeted his partner roughly, over pleasantries from the past few days of working non-stop. “Tell me you’ve pinpointed her location.”

Steve looked up at him from where he was hunched over his own desk, the bruises under his eyes mirroring his own. “Well, you look horrible. Did you even sleep?”

Javier rolled his eyes before he ran a hand roughly through his hair. “Fuck. I’ll take that as a no.” He couldn’t help the frustration that seeped through his voice, unbridled and wild. He felt wild, like he could do anything. Anything but find you, apparently.

“We’ve made progress, but you know how bad the forest coverage is. They have her somewhere close to their labs in there, some safe house we can imagine that’s off the grid. They’re not idiots, Jav,” Steve replied, shuffling through papers without looking at him. “Seriously, though. Did you sleep?”

Javier shot him a look, all empty anger as the fire didn’t even reach his eyes. Steve was too preoccupied to catch it. He already felt guilty enough for leaving the embassy without a clear idea of where you were, as Steve had practically dragged him off his desk kicking and screaming not mere hours ago in hopes that he would get rest. “Some. Now update me on what Carrillo has. Where is he, anyway?”

He glanced around the embassy, catching sight of the colonel’s empty private office space. He had been working just as hard as Steve had yesterday, a match lit under him once he had heard what Javier’s informant had to say. There was bloodlust in his eyes at the thought of nabbing Gustavo. He had gotten all of Search Bloc ready at attention, prepped for a raid that could begin at any moment. They just needed Noonan’s approval.

But that approval wouldn’t come easily. They needed something more than one informant’s word to connect Gustavo with an agent’s kidnapping, and more than that they needed a warrant to even go after the bastard in the first place. 

“Trying to scrounge up witnesses, loopholes, you know. The run of the mill stuff that Carrillo does without telling us,” Steve huffed out a harsh laugh, the meaning clear. Neither one of them liked when Carrillo played dirty, but they had resigned themselves to silence this time if the outcome meant getting you back. Javier hated how desperate all the rationales of bending his morals felt in his head when he thought about you. It really was an itch he couldn’t stop scratching. It made him feel...out of control.

Dangerous was the word he was looking for.

“I imagine Noonan still hasn’t been won over by what we’ve found so far,” Javier said with an edge of sarcasm, the only form of humor he could stomach today. Steve just gave him a small shrug, finally meeting his eyes again.

“You know the red tape better than anyone, don’t ask me that.” Steve’s gaze was hard, serious. He cared about you, too. Steve would just as gladly break the rules to find you if he could. Javi knew that, but he still made things difficult anyway. The guilt in his gut flared up again.

But he sincerely couldn’t help it. His hands clenched into fists and he narrowly held himself back from slamming them against his own desk in sheer frustration, anger overtaking his vision just as it had when Gabriella had told him where you might be. With sicarios. With narcos. With Gustavo.

He could only think about it for a short period of time before he feared he would punch the nearest thing to him. He couldn’t stomach the thought of what could be happening to you. He wasn’t strong enough for that. All he could do was use every waking moment he had to get you back, and so he would.

“Fuck, Steve. We’re so fucking close,” Javier finally bit out. “We are actually close. Really, really fucking close. If we could just send out search bloc to do a sweep of that region-“

“Javi, please. I don’t want to have this argument again with you,” Steve sighed, tension spilling out of him. “You know we can’t-“

“But why? Think about it,” Javier stepped closer to Steve, getting into his space as he lowered the rush of words pouring from his mouth. He felt like if he got to close to him he might singe his mustache with the heat that radiated from him. “We already have so many informants that are tied with Escobar’s enemies that we’ve been saving for a rainy day, why not have that day be today?”

Steve looked at him squarely, brows knitting together as Javi’s implication settled in on him. His eyes narrowed. “Javier. Do you even know what you're saying?”

The silence sat between them, stretching longer as Javi stood strong, never retreating.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Steve, the longer we wait the less time she has. She might not even be- she...” Javi couldn’t finish his sentence, heat creeping up his face as he batted despair from the dark corners of his mind. “I can’t just sit here and wait for Carrillo and Noonan. I know you don’t want to, either.”

The tension was as solid as cement settling in the thick air between them, energy and static cracking between the two agent’s gazes as they both wondered who would chicken out first. Who’s morals were stronger, or if they truly were just as bad as the other.

“Murphy!”

The two partners looked towards the direction of the shout, eyes torn away from each other as the strain between them dissipated to a weak pulse.

“Back so soon?” Steve replied, the both of them taking in the sight of Colonel Carrillo storming to them like a train parting the tracks. A man of strong intensity, and certainly unshakable purpose in everything he did. The seriousness of his face made it look like it was etched in stone to Javi.

Carrillo glanced quickly at Javier as he stopped in front of them, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck raise. The air around him reeked of something bad, his hand tight on a manila file.

“Peña. I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

“Likewise, Colonel.” The slight tinge to Carrillo’s omission only made his sudden appearance back at the embassy even more ominous to Javi. “What did you find?”

It was then that Carrillo hesitated. Truly, actually hesitated. The Carrillo. A man of mythos, power, and treachery. It was only a beat, but Javi was so wired he could see it from a mile away. 

“Nothing that we were hoping for,” he replied, his voice low and mourning.

Time moved slowly, Javier’s heart slamming into his throat at the colonel’s tone. No. Fuck no.

Carrillo moved to open the file in his hand, eyes deathly serious as he studied Javi and only Javi. If Javier could have met his gaze in that moment, he would have realized why he had hesitated. It was concern. Concern for him.

Steve said something, but it sounded like he was trying to speak to him from underwater. Waves crashed into Javi’s ears, in and out until the world drowned out and all he could see where the polaroid photos in front of him, outstretched over Carrillo’s forearms in the file.

They were blurry in most of them, not well shot and taken hurriedly. There was even a thumb obscuring the image in one of them, covering part of the lens when the photo was taken. 

But unmistakably and undeniably, there you were. 

You sat alone at first, the same blouse that he had seen you in at the bar hanging off your shoulders to reveal the swell of your breasts and the marks on your neck, deep bruises pressed into your jaw. He couldn’t help the memory that flashed in his mind, the uncontrollable hunger he had felt when that same neck had been splayed out so sweetly for him under his hand when you were in his arms, wanting and waiting. 

But the fire that lit behind Javier’s eyes was not the same as the one he had felt when he had held you hard to him, eyes feasting on the way you eyelashes brushed your flushed cheeks and greedily taking in the feel of your smaller body against his. No, this was nothing short of the name he had given it earlier today, before Carrillo had shown him the haunting photos of you.

This was danger.

And as he took in the rest of the images, eyes racing over them as he traced over every detail painfully like he couldn’t look away no matter how much he wanted to, the fire that had been threatening to break the dam Javi had so carefully constructed over the past few days cracked. 

Your closed eyes, the red mark on your cheek throwing your head to the side, your beautiful hair falling to hide the rest of the damage on your neck, your bare breast peeking over your torn shirt indecently, your pants torn from your body leaving your delicious legs bare to the eyes of those who did not deserve to look at you, how small your body looked, truly showing the world how young you really were.

And the final photo, the last one on Carrillo’s manila folder, was shielded by the others almost artfully, like it was just meant for Javi to pick up. And he did, holding it up to his eyes as the waves crashed louder and louder against his ears and the world blacked out around the edges. He saw him holding her jaw, craned painfully up to look unseeingly up at her captor, grinning from ear to ear like he had just won the lottery above her, touching her in all the places Javier should be.

Gustavo Gaviria, right on camera.

“Javi.”

The spell broke, and the world pulled back into focus. The numbness ebbed away as he continued to hold his breath, ice shards stabbing at his heart as he finally looked up to the voice.

“Javier-“

His feet moved before he could think, and before Carrillo or Steve could move to stop him, Javi was halfway out the door.

Everything blurred around him, the string that had been holding him together shattered in one single moment. The dam was gone, splintered to pieces within him as he let the anger and jealousy consume him. He was disgusted with himself, the primal rage that fueled his every movement after seeing you completely debauched in the hands of the devil himself. It took everything within his broken mind not to self-destruct right now.

No, he couldn’t do that. Not yet. As he rushed from the embassy and spilled onto the busy streets of Colombia, Javier Peña’s mind could only register one thought, the one that had been ruling his every waking moment since you had left him. He had to get you back. And this was the last thing he needed to make it all fall apart.

He barely noticed the soft clinks of the coins sliding into the payphone as he pushed them in, handle hot from the sun that did nothing but stoke the fire within the agent.

He pressed the numbers in from memory, always having a good track of where he could find his most important informants. It was easy to remember this one.

“Si?” The deep voice crackled on the other line.

Javier sucked in a breath that felt like the first one he had taken in ages.

“It’s Peña. We need to talk.”

-

The ride to the agreed upon meeting place was made in silence. Javier gripped the steering wheel until he was sure his knuckles would be permanently white. His thoughts finally stood still once he had taken the first drag of his cigarette, paused for only a short reprieve as determination coursed through him. The agent's face was carved into deep lines as he stared robotically at the road ahead.

His mind was clear, goal set. He thought about the curve of your wrist as he drove, a fleeting thought that used to excite him when he was able to still touch you. It was one of the only places on you he allowed himself to touch before the last night you were with him. He had held you like a brand then, close and hard, like he could burn you into him and him into you. He wished he could, so you never would have to leave. Not like this.

The agent finally reached a clearing, the green of the heavy foliage whipping past him as he slowed to a stop in front of the field of tall grasses. The air was hot and heavy, making gravity feel that much stronger on Javi’s broad shoulders as he exited the car. He took his last drawl, flicking the butt of the cigarette into the expanse of green as he closed the door. 

Stepping confidently, he walked towards the grass, hands low on his hips as he leaned against his car. The sun had baked through his red shirt, mirroring the smoldering fire that still burned there. The heat from before had never left him, stronger now as he saw the two men appearing from the other side of the clearing. They were poised like predators, clothed in tactical gear and armed to the teeth with firearms Javier knew were illegal in every Colombian municipal county. Today, he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

As the men sauntered closer, Javier didn’t leave his spot against his car, exuding the kind of forced iciness that only existed on his surface. It would be necessary if this were to work.

“Agent Javier Peña,” the first man started, only a few feet away from him now. His hat hung low on his head, casting deep shadows across his face that disguised the roundness of it. “I will be honest, I did not expect for you to finally call us. I had thought that our proposed arrangement...might not be acceptable to you,” he finished, his English broken in some places to cover the heavy accent.

The other man stared at him squarely, hand sweeping over his rifle as he did. Javier let out a smile that felt so foreign to him. He briefly realized it had been days since he had smiled.

“The game has changed,” he replied simply, shrugging his shoulders in a way he hoped read as nonchalant. “Escobar has altered the rules.”

The men shifted, sharing a knowing look as they considered the agent in front of them.

“What makes you think we want in now, after you’ve been so cold to us?”

At that, Javier chuckled. It didn’t meet his eyes. The darkness that had been growing inside of him preened, goaded on by the black look that had overtaken his gaze.

“Because, Carlos and Fidel, this is your chance to take down Gustavo Gaviria.”

Javier Peña was danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes, we've crossed into canon-divergence territory. Because did you think I could really leave out Javi's stint with Los Pepes? >:)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think, your comments fuel this story and I am so pumped for what's about to come next!! <3
> 
> *UPDATE 3/5/21*
> 
> Hi readers, I apologize for no update this week! Life has been coming at me fast lately, but don't worry! Next chapter will be a long one AND is set to be very...exciting ;) Thank you so much to those who have been sticking with this story so far, y'all are incredible!! I'll see you next Friday <3


End file.
